Lady Of The Own
by GreenQueen615
Summary: Kel goes to convent and comes back to the palace a court lady. an unexpected conversation with the king can lead to any number of interesting opportunities...finally updated, I'm sorry it took so long!
1. Dear Neal

Dear Neal,

I miss you. I miss all of you. Can you give me news of the palace?

The sisters refuse to tell me anything, they seem to think that a bit of news will prompt me into a bout of boyishness.

We do not exercise here. Unless you count endless lessons in the proper usage of a fan _'flick it open gently, girls! Gently, now!' _to be exercise.

We are also instructed in the art of applying face paint.

And elegant calligraphy.

And fashion and etiquette.

I feel like a doll.

Are you eating your vegetables?

I hope you are feeding my sparrows, and keeping Joren on his toes.

Beat him bad for me.

Kel

P.S. I am friends with your sister Victaria. Address your letters to her, or the sisters will kill me, with a fan and corset.

Kel folded the letter and handed it to her friend, Victaria. "Can you send this in your mail, please? He's your brother, so it won't look odd for you to write to him."

She nodded. "Kel," she said, hesitantly, "He really likes you. You're his best friend, you know."

Kel nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek. "He's mine, too."

Neal unfolded the letter. Odd, really. Victaria never wrote to him.

_Dear Neal,_

_I miss you. I miss all of you._

All of us? He glanced down at the signature. _Kel_. He hurried down the hall. He hammered on Roald's door. Roald opened it looking concerned. "What is it?"

Neal grinned. "I got a letter from my sister!"

Roald stared at him. "And?"

Neal smacked himself in the head. "Not my sister. My sister sent it, but it's from Kel!"

"Really?"

Neal laughed at the look on his friend's face. "Really! Do you want to write her? I'll post it with my letter."

Roald nodded slowly. "Let's get everyone else to write to her, too."

Dear Kel,

You wrote to me! I'm so impressed, you write so beautifully.

Such a ladylike handwriting, my dear, are we losing you to the evil convent ladies?

I miss you too. Nobody to thump me on the courts, or force-feed me vegetables, or annoy me about sparrows, or…just joking, Kel, I miss you like crazy.

I do not eat my vegetables, I'm a terrible person.

The palace is very boring. We are all quite angry with Lord Wyldon, and he is still the same old stuffed shirt that he has always been. You know that his daughter goes to the convent?

Joren came by the day you left and started shooting his mouth off. We beat him up, as well as Garvey and Vinson.

They haven't said much since then.

Miss you terribly.

Neal

Kel took the envelope from Victaria. It was strangely heavy. She opened it, and several slips of paper fell out. She opened one. _Dear Kel, I miss you. You were the best of all of us. Don't become a girl-girl, please. From Merric._

She placed it on the bed. The next was from Cleon. _Kel- I miss you. Teach those convent girls something real. Cleon._

A tear slipped down her cheek.

_Dear Kel, I'm sorry. Please write to me, I miss you very much. I am the worst with the staff still and my bruises are like tapestries. Esmond_

_Dear Kel, Training is very boring now. Peachblossom misses you. We beat Joren up for you. I eat my vegetables and try to make Neal eat his. Seaver._

_Dear Kel, I need to apologize for what my father did. Please forgive me, if not him. I miss you. Roald._

_Dear Kel, I miss you. Don't forget us. Please write. Come back to the palace someday and you can stab Wyldon with your fan. Faleron._

Kel threw herself into her pillow and sobbed. She missed them more than she had realized. She lay like that for some time, then read Neal's, and cried some more.


	2. Replies

**Hi, all. Kudos to my first reviewer, Spazzysassyangel. Would love to get more, of course! **

**Hope this isn't too much of a travesty...  
**

_Dear Neal, Faleron, Cleon, Seaver, Esmond, Roald, and Merric,_

_I miss you all. Thank you so much for writing to me. I wanted to write you each a letter, but the sisters would be angry. So here is this one instead. _

_Seaver: Thank you for eating your vegetables. Are you having better luck with your map reading? Like I said before, imagine it as a picture. _

_Merric: Don't worry, I won't. I have already gotten in trouble twice for refusing to wear face paint. _

_Cleon: I'll try, but they are all such empty headed twits that I doubt I will be able to._

_Esmond: I will send you my bruise balm. Ask Faleron to help you with your grip. You have your fists too close together._

_Roald: Don't worry, I'm not angry at you. If you could tell your father that I do not resent what he did, I would be much obliged. Tell him that I don't agree with him, but I'm not mad at him. Much._

_Faleron: I could never forget you! Of course I will write, every week. Shall I send you one so you can do it for me?_

_Neal: You are terrible! How dare you not eat your vegetables? Do I need to write to your father? I miss you so much, and I am also mad at Wyldon. Please tell him that I send my regards, and so does his daughter. Incidentally, I have become very friendly with her, she thinks I should have been allowed to continue, but don't tell him that. Her name is Lilah. She's very sweet, you would like her. All of you. Did you really beat them up? Did you get in trouble? I hope not._

_The sisters have a new idea, that maybe if I am allowed to practice, I won't bother them about going back or anything. So I am allowed to practice with my glaive. Also the staff. But nothing else. _

_Miss you all,_

_Kel_

_P.S. Should I send Joren a letter, to scare him? _

She ended with the proper flourish and sealed it with purple wax. She picked out her favorite stamp, an oak tree, and stamped it vigorously. Setting down her quill she hiked up her skirts and hurried out the door and down the hall to, ironically, etiquette class. She smoothed her skirt and patted her hair, then opened the door. A few girls sneered at her, others avoided her gaze. The third Daughter glared at her a moment, and then said, "Ah, our knightly savage has arrived. Shall we begin…again?"

Kel fixed on her most Yamani Lump face and went to sit between Victaria and Lilah. They scooted over a little to make room. The Daughter stood before Kel and loudly said, "Could Keladry of Mindelan tell us the proper way to rebuff an aspiring suitor?"

"How would she know?" One of the girls whispered loudly.

Lilah patted her arm consolingly, and Victaria squeezed her fingers.

Kel graced the Daughter with a small smile. "Of course I could, Third Daughter. The correct thing to say in that situation would be, 'My affections are captured by another, kind sir, and while I am flattered by your sweet attentions to my humble self, I cannot, in good faith, pursue this relationship."

The Daughter nodded grudgingly. "Of course, _some_ of us might just knock their legs out from under them with a sword or pigsticker, might we not?"

Keladry inclined her head slightly, before saying, "If you felt the need to do so, I'm sure you might, Third Daughter."

Lilah gasped, then giggled.

Third Daughter drew herself up imperiously. "You are dismissed, Lilah of Cavall and Keladry of Mindelan. Leave, now, before I see fit to punish you less graciously."

They rose and curtsied.

Then they left. When they got out, Lilah turned to Kel and said, "You know, I haven't gotten kicked out of class in _days."_


	3. Introductions

**Ookay. NUMBER ONE: I got reviews. I got reviews. Are you hearing me, people? I GOT REVIEWS! *Does happy dance, faints, etc***

**NUMBER TWO: I left this way too long-please don't lynch me. Now, I will respond to **_**all**_** of my lovely reviewers.**

**TheWackedOne: Hope you approve!**

**Thecla: Just for you…**

**Forward: Thanks!**

**Queen of the Jungle: Thank you so much! I am going to go with your second idea and hope nobody tries to sacrifice me. Do you know which book they are listed in? I'd love to read it…**

**Thank you all. You rock- even those who have yet to comment…hint, hint.**

Kel headed down to the dining chamber. Her shoulder length hair was windblown and her pale pink skirt had grass stains on the knees. Her pale cheeks were flushed and a tiny tear trembled on the corner of her eye. She knew what punishment this meant. She held her head high and strode into the room.

Several girls tittered, then hushed themselves as Third Daughter stood.

"Keladry of Mindelan." she said, loudly.

Kel inclined her head.

"Keladry of Mindelan, you are a disgrace. Please leave the room. We do not wish to be sullied by your presence. First Daughter," she paused, gazing reverently at the tall, empty chair in the center of the room, "will deal with you later. Go."

Kel left, head bowed. They hadn't broken her yet, but they were coming close. Although she still practiced, secretly, with her glaive, she had almost become the docile court lady they expected her to be. Two and a half years of secret exercise, three escape attempts, and punishment had bent her will, bent it far, but not broken it. As the Yamani said, _Be not like the oak, which stands firm and breaks. Better to be like the reed, which bends and does not break. _She breathed deeply and headed for her room. There, she flung herself on her bed. Her friends had forsaken her, her parents were dead, and her siblings were too far away to help. She was alone.

Margarry poked her head in the door. "Are you alright? It's almost noon-"

She stopped when she saw Kel's tearstained face. "Oh, Kel. Come on, it's fine. It's fine."

Kel nodded, gulping. "S'just, just, I would be a squire, next year, an' now, now I can't do anything right, anything."

The shorter, darker girl gazed at her, then impulsively went and hugged her. "I didn't know how much it meant to you."

Kel nodded again. "Do I look horrible?" Margarry stepped back. "No, a little pale, that's all. Go."

Kel headed slowly down the stone corridor. With each echoing footstep, her dread intensified. Finally she reached an imposing oak door with intricate carvings in the dark wood. Nervously, she raised her hand and knocked three times, trying not to panic.

"Enter," a melodious voice called, slightly muffled by the heavy wood.

Kel smoothed her hair and pushed open the door. She stumbled in to a spacious office, well lit and intricately furnished. She turned to the desk that she had stood before many times, and dropped into a deep curtsy. Standing, she gazed at the floor until first daughter said, " Sit."

She sat in a comfortable redwood chair, still afraid to look up. First Daughter started to talk.

"I hear you were late and filthy. I hear you are slacking and slothful. I hear you still entertain dreams of going back to the palace and becoming a knight."

Kel did not respond. First Daughter continued. " The normal punishments do not work on you. Not eating bread and water for months at a time, not confinement, nothing. So I have come to the conclusion that only seeing how your former friends have progressed without you will fully convince you that you are going to be a lady. You leave for the palace tomorrow. A maid has already packed your things. Victaria of Queenscove will be your monitor, your chaperone. You will obey her completely."

She nodded and stood. First Daughter held up a hand. Then she said, "I think you may like to read these."

She tossed a heavy package on the desk. It was tied with a ribbon, and looked to be about a foot tall. Kel lifted it and gasped. Upon closer examination the package was-envelopes. Yellowed and cracked, there seemed to be over three hundred. A tear rolled down her cheek, and First Daughter smiled triumphantly. In a voice dripping with satisfaction, she said, "You may leave, Keladry of Mindelan."

Kel sat, miserably pondering her upcoming trip.

A tear trickled down her cheek. She would see her friends again.

If they were still her friends.

Three years of letters, all asking why she would not write.

Perhaps she could stay at the palace. She stayed at her desk all night, reading letter after letter.

The next morning she climbed into a carriage bearing the convent's crest, a dove with a lily in its beak,

on a pale blue field. It was a gray and stormy day, and Kel curled up in the corner, sinking into the plush blue velvet seats. Across from her sat Victaria-three years her senior, she had been Kel's sole confidante in her first year. Now they had grown apart. They were still friendly, but they rarely spoke.

Kel shivered in her thin green gown, and thought of the palace. Victaria read comfortably, leaving Kel well alone. She was the perfect convent lady, polite, clever, docile. It was hard to believe she was related to Neal.

They did not converse- Kel was too deep in thoughts of the palace, Victaria too nervous. Kel was young, but there was something odd about her. Reflecting, Victaria noticed that Keladry was pretty, she just carried herself badly. With her pale skin, pink cheeks and lips, brown-green eyes, and sandy hair, she was a very nice-looking young lady. For an instant, Victaria envied her. Then, glancing at her own reflection in the window, she consoled herself with the thought that, although Keladry was pretty, she was not a beauty like Victaria herself.

She settled into a comfortable position. They would arrive at the palace soon, and then they would see who was prettiest. They would see.

Kel stared at Victaria. The older girl had been watching her intently for several minutes now. Kel watched her face, and saw several emotions flit across her features. Contempt, unease, realization, and…jealousy?

She laughed at herself. What did _she _have that Victaria of Queenscove could envy?

After several hours of silence, Victaria cleared her throat. "Ah. I am quite hungry, aren't you, Keladry? I could just eat a horse! I am quite looking forward to the palace…"

She prattled on nervously. Kel smiled. She wasn't going to give her any help.

"And I was saying to mother how nice it would be to see Father and Neal…"

Kel stared out the window. Victaria continued talking, undaunted.

"Of course, I can't wait for all the balls, and the gardens are beautiful, don't you think? I do. I was thinking that I might like to send a letter to Neal but then I decided just to surprise him, I remember once on my birthday he…"

Kel sighed. Victaria was in full flow, and showing no sign of stopping. She decided to repeat a pattern dance in her mind. _Leap forward, step back, spin, jump, Neal had caught her once doing this and been incredibly impressed. He had referred to her as 'Most Dangerous of Warrior Maidens' for the rest of the day. It had been very funny, but now there was a taste of bitterness in the sweet memory-they probably would not share the same closeness as before._

"And then I decided to wear my wine colored taffeta gown to the first ball, with my ruby pendant and matching rings, and of course I'll put my hair up in that new coiled fashion, with the braids? You must know what I'm talking about, oh, of course you do, how could you not? Oh, and for the second I was going to wear that black silk, but then I decided that the green would set off my eyes better, don't you think? Oh, goodness! Great Mother Goddess, we're here!"

Kel started, and peeked out the window. There it was, the palace, just as she remembered it. Victaria whipped out a small engraved mirror. She peeked at herself, and sucked in her cheeks, patted her hair, and shook out her skirts. "Ready, Keladry?"

Kel stood. "I-I think so."

The door opened, and Victaria swept out. Kel followed her, stumbling slightly on the stairs, and trailed meekly after her to the steps of the huge oaken door that Kel remembered so well. Victaria threw back her shoulders and strode into the great stone hallway, nodding to the footman who had opened the door for them. Kel walked slowly after her, shoulders hunched. Servants hurried through the halls, bearing trays, buckets, and all manner of other curious things. Pages headed to their classes, and Kel's stomach lurched. A short, round faced boy with a mop of sandy curls walked straight into her, and Kel, the boy, several books, and an inky quill toppled to the ground. Kel sat, winded. The boy, who was blushing furiously, stood up, bowed, and, offering a hand, said, "Oh, miss, please forgive me, it's just I was reading, it's a very jolly book, and I wasn't paying attention, and then, all of a sudden you were just…just there."

Kel smiled. The page, whom she would guess was in his second or third year, was rushing around, trying to collect his scattered possessions. She stood and picked up a particularly thick, heavy volume, entitled, _Yamani Etiquette, by Baron Piers of Mindelan._

"My father wrote this book!" she said, surprised. "I remember once, in etiquette class, we were reading this, and I got in such trouble with the master…"

The boy looked at her oddly. "You have masters at the Convent?"

Kel blushed. "Oh, no, no. I was…I was here a few years ago…as a page…but Lord Wyldon sent me away."

The boy gaped. "You-you must be Keladry of Mindelan! Oh, miss, all the boys say you're great, Neal and Merric and Seaver and Faleron and Cleon and them, they talk about you all the time! They say nobody was as good at tilting or staff as you, and that you had a jolly spear-do you still have it?"

He stuck out his hand for her to shake, and she accepted, laughing a little.

"My name's Owen, by the way, Owen of Jesslaw."

"Well, Owen," she said, smiling, "You can call me Kel. Where- where are the others?"

"Oh," he said, "They're at supper, we're having a jolly good feast tonight, two ladies from the Convent're coming-"

Realization flashed over his round, open face. "Hey, I bet that's you! Wait till I tell them!"

"No!" she exclaimed, "I-I mean," she said, for Owen was looking incredibly confused, "I want to keep it a secret, and surprise them. See if they'll know who I am."

Owen grinned. "That sounds jolly. I'm in!"

Kel hurried over to Victaria, who was tapping her foot impatiently. "Well?" she demanded, "Who was that?"

"Oh," said Kel, "just a boy."

Victaria looked knowingly at her, and Kel almost laughed aloud, but just smiled sweetly. Victaria nodded, then said, "We're to share a chamber-it'll adjoin, you know."

Kel smiled, then, keeping her tone even, said, "Victaria, would you do me a favor and not tell the boys who I am? I want to see if they'll guess."

Victaria shrugged. "It makes no difference to me."

They headed toward their chamber, where Victaria changed into a rose-pink gown, covered in flounces and ribbons, and Kel changed her ink-spotted dress for a russet red frock, simply cut, with a square neckline. She ran a comb through her unruly hair, and headed down to supper. With a quick whisper in the footman's ear, she gained an unobtrusive entrance, and quietly filled her tray with soup, a roll, a piece of chicken, and several forkfuls of vegetables. She stood at the head of the mess hall, not knowing where to sit. Then she spotted Owen, waving his arm so energetically it looked as though he were trying to take flight.

She smiled and hurried over to sit beside him. Across the table, Neal was complaining about his sister to the rest of the boys. "Haven't seen her in two years, and she's just, 'Oh, Nealan, how lovely. Bye!' And then she goes and sits with _Joren and his lot!" _

_Cleon looked up, saw Kel, and smiled widely. "Hello."_

_She smiled timidly. "Hi."_

_Neal glanced across the table, and, clearing his throat said, "Madame! You grace our table magnificently, and I have not seen the like of such beauty in days. Your face reminds one of the dew glazed lily-"_

_She blushed. Roald jabbed Neal in the ribs. "Stop it, Nealan, you're embarrassing our guest."_

_To Kel he said, "Don't mind him, he's just a bit crazy."_

_Kel nodded and returned to eating her vegetables. She glanced around the table. Esmond and Faleron were looking at her carefully, and Neal was eyeing the sizable mound of vegetables still on her plate. _

"_How do you eat those?" he asked her, pulling a face._

"_They're good for you," she replied, smiling. _

"_Wha-?"_

_Recognition dawned on his face. "Kel?"_

_Cleon smirked. "That's not our Kel, you oaf, she can't be!"_

_Faleron shook his head. "No…she is. I'm sure of it."_

_Neal stood up. "Kel?"_

_She nodded, biting her lips. Neal jumped onto the bench. "Kel! You're here! Oh, I can't believe it…EVERYBODY," he called, "Kel's here!" _

_Kel blushed deeper. Everyone in the hall looked rather bemused. Joren was smirking behind his cup, and, she discovered, scanning the hall, Lord Wyldon looked extremely discomfited as well. She was immediately bombarded with questions, and finally, after half an hour of answering queries, reminiscing, and laughing, she excused herself, and started toward her chambers. She heard the slap of leather on marble, and turned to find Neal chasing after her. He raised an arm, panting. She stopped. He walked toward her, clutching his side. "Y-you never wrote back," he panted, "Why didn't you write?"_

_Kel trembled. "First Daughter stopped me from getting my letters," she admitted, "I thought you had forgotten me."_

"_Forget you?" he asked, incredulously, "How could I forget you? You're Kel!"_

_He grinned, and pretended not to notice the tears that had formed on the edge of her eyes. _

"_Listen," he said, "Tomorrow, you take a staff, sword, lance, whatever weapon you want, and we'll show you the stuff that you missed, alright?"_

"_Thank you," she said, blushing, "Thank you so much."_

_He looked at her, bemused. "It's not a problem, Kel, really."_

"_I-I know. Well, g'night."_

"_Night!"_


	4. Invitations and Anticipation

**Thanks to all of my lovely reviewers. Think I'm coming down with something, so you can expect quite a bit of updating over the next few days. My pain, your gain, hmm?**

Kel stretched. She was back in the palace. The birds were singing, the sky was clear, and

she felt better than she had in years. Kel leaned out the window. A sparrow flitted up to the window, and pecked boldly at her hand. Kel beamed, and reached into her pocket for a biscuit. She crumbled it onto the sill, and the bird hopped inquisitively over to the pieces. It pecked at them.

She smiled.

Someone knocked at the door. Kel pulled on a dressing gown, and flew to answer it. It was probably Neal.

"Keladry?" someone called, in piercing tones, "Keladry, open the door, please."

"Coming," she called, tying her belt, "I'm coming."

She opened the door, and there stood Victaria, dressed in a beautiful gown of dark blue, with pearls around the neckline.

"Well?" she asked, looking at Kel's dressing gown with disapproval, "Why aren't you dressed? It's almost time to go."

"Go?" Kel asked, confused, "Go where?"

"To the market, of course," the older girl explained, "You need some ribbons and jewelry for the balls, and I need a new pair of slippers.""Oh," Kel said, her heart sinking, "But I had made arrangements already, with some of my friends…"

Victaria shivered. It was so odd to hear Keladry talk about her friends. At the convent, she had none.

"Well," she said, frowning. "I guess it could wait until later. Say around noon?"

She did not wait for Kel to agree, just swept back to her quarters.

Kel grinned. She slammed the door and pulled out a smuggled pair of breeches-but would she be permitted to wear them? She was no longer an eleven year old page-now she was a lady. "She shrugged and pulled the breeches on. She put on a simple linen shirt, which she topped with a sea-green tunic. She slipped on a pair of soft leather boots, and grabbed her glaive. She looked in the mirror. Her hair flowed around their shoulders, and it would get in the way. She grasped it in a ponytail and brought the blade up. She bit her lips, and brought the blade down. After three years with long hair, she couldn't bear to cut it. She reached into her trunk and pulled out a dark green velvet ribbon. She tied her hair back, letting the ribbons hang.

She grasped her glaive, and headed to the practice courts.

"Kel!" Faleron waved. "It's like three years ago, mostly, just you have longer hair, and I'm a squire, Kel can you believe it? For Lord Raoul! And he never takes squires. But he said that I was really good… also, he heard you were back, so he just came. Can you believe that? He's really interested in you, actually, you know he's a good friend of the Lioness."

Kel nodded. "That's great, Fal. Fence with me? I'm going to work a little with my glaive, but after?"

He nodded. "Yeah, sure."

She smiled at him, then walked a few paces off. She began one of the easier pattern dances, just to get the feel of it, then launched herself into one of the more complicated ones.

"Well, well, well," said a familiar voice, "If it isn't our lovely lady savage, back again. How are you, lump?"

Kel turned, to find Joren of Stone Mountain sneering at her. She bowed, Yamani style, and brought her glaive up in a cutting move, finishing the pattern dance, and putting the blade not an inch from Joren's

neck. Had she stopped it a second later, his head would have been severed from his body.

He paled visibly, and almost lost his .

Faleron walked over to stand beside her. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, noting with pleasure that he looked quite formidable.

Joren mustered one last, rather weak, look of contempt before turning on his heel and leaving.

Faleron turned to Kel, arms folded across his chest. "Well, I'm impressed," he said, smiling slightly.

"Don't be," she panted, "half an inch. Half an inch and he'd be dead. I almost lost it, too."

He clapped her on the back. "Well," he said, "here's to the half inch."

She smiled weakly at him, uncomfortably aware of his hand on her arm. She flushed a little bit.

He removed his hand, then, bending low, said, "Would milady do me the honor of accompanying me to the King's ball tonight?"

She looked at him, unsure.

He winked.

Grinning, she dropped into a low curtsy, which was rather difficult, considering her breeches. However, she thought she pulled it off well. "The honor is all mine," she said, sweetly, "Thank you for your kind attentions to my humble person."

"Now," he said, "can I take you up on that offer of a duel?"

"I'm afraid not," she replied, grinning wickedly, "I had promised to meet a very dear friend at the market at noon."

His eyes widened. "Who?"

"Oh," she said, innocently, "Victaria of Queenscove. We're going shopping."

He pouted. "That's not very nice."

"I'll make it up to you later," she called, "Wait till later, when we fence!"

He raised a hand in mock salute, and she waved back at him as she ran off the courtyard.

o-O-o

She raced up the stairs to her room to slip into something a little more conventional. She pulled a burnt orange frock out of her suitcase, and changed the sweat-soaked undershirt for a clean cotton shift. She dressed hastily, and fled to the door, before remembering to change her boots for more ladylike brown velvet slippers.

She knocked at the door that adjoined Victaria's and her room, then pushed it open. Victaria was nowhere to be seen, although clothing was strewn around the room.

Kel looked around, as though the older girl was hiding in the closet.

She was probably in the latrine, Kel thought wryly.

She sat down on the bed to wait. As expected, a hassled-looking Victaria burst into the room a few moments later. "Oh, Kel, I'm sorry I was late, I was in the privy-" she flushed and stopped herself. "I mean, I was refreshing myself."

Kel nodded. "Of course."

Victaria straightened her skirts, then, as though Keladry was the tardy one, said, "Are you ready to go yet?"

Kel nodded. "I'm a bit hungry, though,"

"Don't worry, we'll find a little something at the market."

"All right," Kel answered, "I'm being escorted to the ball-"

"What?" Victaria exclaimed, delightedly, "By whom?"

"Faleron of King's Reach," she answered.

"Faleron of King's Reach?" repeated Victaria, dazedly, "Well, then we must get you something nice to go with your gown-you do have a gown, right?"

Kel nodded. "I'll show it to you later."

"Oh," said Victaria, "In that case, shall we be off?"

"Of course," Kel said, standing.

The market was a beautiful place, large and bright. Kel basked in the coarse smells, sounds, and sights, after her sheltered time in the convent.

Victaria's idea of a little something was a fairy twist-a soft, twisted pastry dusted with sugar.

Kel finished hers in three bites, and looked around, famished, for something with more substance to it. She found a turnover. For a copper bit, she got a sweet pastry filled with crisp apples and cinnamon. It was delicious-hot, crispy, and flavorful. The crackly, slightly burnt dough dissolved in her mouth, and the crunchy fruit was sheer bliss.

Victaria watched Kel eat with a mixture of longing and disapproval, before finally turning away and dragging Kel to another shop.

Kel purchased a soft ribbon in the exact shade of green as her dress, and a pair of pearl earbobs.

Victaria clucked and fussed over several items before finally selecting an opal necklace, in gold settings. It was, Kel thought, extravagant, though beautiful.

Victaria took her to the flower market next.

"I do love flowers," confided the older girl, "Though I can't seem to grow any of my own."

She gave a small, petulant sigh. "I suppose these will do, though."

She purchased a large bouquet of orchids and heartsease, to give to her father, Duke Baird.

"Father's funny that way," she said, "he loves hunting and fishing and such, but he loves pretty things more."

Kel nodded. Dusk was creeping slowly over the marketplace. Peddlers were closing their stalls, shopkeepers were locking their doors. The fires and lights of the midday were extinguished, and the customers trickled out. Kel and Victaria made their way slowly to the palace, savoring the soft silence of the city. Victaria turned to Kel. "Keladry?"

Kel sighed. "Just Kel, please."

Victaria offered her a small smile. "You can call me Vica, if you want,"

Kel just squeezed her hand. They reached the palace, and Victaria insisted on helping Kel dress, as soon as she was finished.

While Victaria prepared herself, Kel soaked in a scented bath. The foamy water soothed her aching muscles, and she relaxed completely, moaning slightly as her muscles loosened.

After twenty minutes in the bath, Kel stood and wrapped herself in a soft white towel. She dried herself, then slipped on a silky shift. She had just put on her dress, when Victaria tapped lightly on the door that adjoined their rooms, then slipped in. "How do I look?"

"Beautiful," replied Kel, honestly, "Really beautiful."

And it was true. Victaria was wearing a pale pink dress with strands of gold woven in. The effect was stunning and shimmery, and it complemented her peachy-golden complexion perfectly. It had a rounded neckline, with bell-like sleeves and a full skirt that was offset by a tight bodice.

She had on dark gold slippers and carried a matching fan. She was wearing her new necklace with gold earbobs, and her dark hair was caught up with a gold and jasper clip.

Her lips were tinted red, and her cheeks were blushed pink. Her eye-paint was nothing dramatic, only subtle streaks of dark pink on lighter pink, but the effect was pleasing. "You look like a sunset," Kel told her, breathlessly.

Victaria nodded, blushing furiously.

"You look pretty, too."

Kel shook her head. "I'm nothing next to you," she said, modestly.

"Oh don't be silly," replied Victaria, "You're gorgeous."

She fastened Kel's dress for her, and applied a little bit of face paint. Then she dragged Kel to the mirror and made her look. "See?" she said, "You're beautiful."

Kel blushed deeply. She had to admit, though, she did look nice.

Her dress was a pale sea-green, with tints of deeper green and blues in it. It had a long, straight skirt, and a tight bodice. The sleeves were long and fitted. The neckline was square and edged in silver, as was the hem. The skirt was cut in such a way that when she spun, it flared out beautifully, but it was not full at all. The back was cut very low.

Simple was key to Kel's outfit. She wore pearl earbobs, and a silver ring.

Victaria was wonderful when it came to face paint. She had brushed Kel's cheeks with the palest of pinks, and her lips with a darker, shiny mauve. A green paint was brushed onto her eyes, with silvery blue spread lightly on top. Gold glitter went on her cheekbones and in her sandy hair, which was tied tightly with a ribbon. Several long curls hung out, framing her face and dangling down her back.

"I forgot to ask you," Kel said, "Who's escorting you?"

"Oh," Victaria blushed, "Lerant of Eldorne. He's in the King's Own, and he's very sweet. Handsome, too."

Kel nodded.

There was a loud knock at her door.

Victaria winked and slipped into her own room.

Kel picked up her silver fan and walked to the door, which she opened slowly.

Faleron was there. She smiled.

He looked at her, and his jaw dropped.

"Kel?"

She nodded and closed the door behind her.

He was wearing a deep green tunic and black breeches. He bowed and produced a tiny corsage, with silvery white flowers. She blushed. He pinned it on the ribbon in her hair, saying, "It looks so perfect here, and on your dress it would just spoil the effect, don't you think?"

She nodded. Her tongue seemed to have forsaken her. He offered his arm, saying, "Shall we?"

She cleared her throat quietly. "Of course, Sir Faleron."

"Well, then, Lady Keladry, let's go."

They started off towards the ballroom. "I am so nervous," he said, "you probably don't know this, but I hate crowds."

Kel giggled. "Why don't we just slip in through there?" she asked, gesturing toward a small door, half covered by a curtain.

"Because," Faleron answered, "I want everyone to see me with my beautiful lady."

Kel blushed again and smiled. They went to wait in the queue of other couples waiting to be announced. They walked slowly towards the door where the others had entered, stopping just a few paces behind the footman, who was currently announcing "Sir Ean of Wendmarsh and Lady Catarina of Samane."

The couple headed down the marble steps, and Faleron and Kel stepped forward. Faleron leaned over to the footman and whispered their names.

The man turned and called, "Sir Faleron of King's Reach, and Lady Keladry of Mindelan."

"This is it," muttered Faleron.

Kel fixed a smile on her face, and they stepped into the light of the ballroom.


	5. Dances and Old Friends

**ATTENTION! ATTENTION! THERE IS **_**NO**_** KEL AND FALERON SHIP! I REPEAT, NO SHIP!**

**NOOOOOOOOO SHIPPING! THEY ARE JUST FRIENDS! **

**Thanks for the reviews. : )**

**P.S. I LIVE ON REVIEWS. MY WRITING SPIRIT IS FUELED BY THEM. I CANNOT WRITE WITHOUT FEEDBACK! i don't care if that sounds lame, it's true.  
**

There was no sound.

Nobody spoke.

Even the musicians stopped playing.

Kel and Faleron walked down the steps, aware of the stares of everyone in the room. They walked to the King and Queen. The only noise was that of Kel's slipper heels on the marble floor.

Faleron bowed before King Jonothan, and bent over Queen Thayet's hand.

He walked a few paces away before stopping to wait for Kel.

Kel curtsied to King Jonothan, who took her hand and brushed it with his lips. He did not meet her eyes.

Queen Thayet grasped Kel's hand and said, softly, "You look beautiful."

Kel smiled, and walked on to Faleron. They made their way to their group of friends, and slowly, people started to talk again. The musicians started up again.

Neal bowed with a flourish. "_Lady _Keladry, how are you? I am sorry we were unable to meet, but…"

Kel curtsied. "The fault was mine, Sir Nealan,"

"Don't call me Nealan," he protested, scowling at her.

"Don't call me 'Lady', then."

He nodded at her, then said, "Shall we?"

"Shall we what?"

"Shall we go and steal a pie?"

"Not just now," Faleron interrupted, "Kel's _my _companion for the evening."

"Ah," Neal said, nodding, "In that case, shall the three of us steal a pie?"

"No thanks," Kel said, hastily, "I want to see the rest of the boys…and I have yet to meet your latest conquest, Nealan."

"Ah!" Neal said, forgetting to scowl at her for using his full name, "Then you are unlucky indeed. Follow me."

They trailed after him, dodging courtiers, to find a pretty, slim, Yamani girl, whose eyes widened slightly when she saw Kel.

Kel wrinkled her brow for a moment before bowing and saying, in Yamani, "Do I have the pleasure of speaking with Yukimi Noh Diamoru?"

The girl whipped open her fan and covered her face. "The pleasure is mine, Keladry of Mindelan."

The boys were looking on, confused. "Uh…" Neal said.

"Why are you here?" Kel asked.

"I am with Princess Shinkokami. For her betrothal to Prince Roald?"

"I didn't know," Kel said, "Is Shinko here, too?"

"Over there," Yuki pointed over to where Roald and Shinkokami sat, side by side, looking uncomfortable.

"They look happy," Kel said, sarcastically.

"Kel!" Faleron said, "Do you want to explain how you know Yukimi?"

"Oh!" Kel hastened to explain that she and Yuki had met in the Yamani Isles, when she was five.

Neal nodded, looking bemused. "Who would have thought," he said, smiling.

"Er, shall we go over and join the rest of the boys?" Faleron said, gesturing over to where Owen, Seaver, Merric, Esmond, and Cleon all stood. "Certainly, Sir Faleron," Kel said, "Lead on." She placed her palm on his arm, and they went over to say hello.

"Kel!" Owen said, waving furiously, "Hi!"

"Hi, Owen," she responded.

He was wearing a deep blue tunic, edged in silver. "How are you?" she asked.

"Fine. You look jolly. You too, Fal, but why aren't you wearing Goldenlake colors?"

"Lord Raoul isn't here tonight," Faleron answered, grinning. "And besides, gold doesn't look good on me."

Merric punched him in the shoulder. "You should talk."

Merric was wearing the brown and orange colors of Nond, and it really did look terrible with his red hair.

"Do you want to tell me how you landed the most beautiful girl at the palace?" he muttered, glancing at his own companion, the Lady Analyn. She was pretty. Merely pretty, and empty-headed, at that. Kel knew her from the convent. Kel blushed and pretended she hadn't heard.

"Kel and I are just friends," she heard him reply, "Just friends."

She breathed a sigh of relief, then turned back to the boys. "So, what's going on?"

"Nothing."

"Not much."

"Practically nothing."

"Not a thing-why?"

"No reason," she responded, looking at them confusedly. She turned to Faleron. "Would you care to take a turn around the gardens with me?"

Faelron nodded

. She turned to Neal and Yuki. "Yukimi, perhaps you and Nealan would like to join us?" she asked in common.

Yuki inclined her head gracefully.

Neal scowled at her, then nodded, laying a hand on the shorter Yamani's shoulder.

They exited, Kel waving to the boys.

o-O-o

King Jonothan of Conte sat glumly on his throne.

His wife, Thayet, drifted over and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Why so sad?" she whispered.

Jon didn't answer, just glared out after Keladry.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" she said.

He sighed. "I shouldn't have let her go. Wyldon knows that. I knew that. But I let her be kicked out."

Thayet rubbed his shoulder. "So tell her."

"What? I can't do that."

"Offer her a place as a page-no probation."

"Nobody would want to be a page at that age."

"Nealan of Queenscove did."

"Yes, sometimes I wonder about that boy."

"So offer her a place as a rider, then."

"A rider? No. She didn't join them for a reason."

"So get her back in shape and send her off to join the Own. Put her under Raoul."

"He's got a squire already."

"They seem to be good friends, though, so why not?"

"Mmf."

Thayet threw up her hands and left.

o-O-o

They strolled through the gardens, talking companionably, the two boys discussing training, and the war in Scanra, and horses, and jousts, while Kel and Yuki talked animatedly in Yamani.

If only the boys had been able to speak that language.

"Do you miss the Islands?"

"No," Yuki responded, "I enjoy Tortall."

"Why Neal?" Kel asked, bluntly. "I never thought that you, of all people, would fall for his theatrics."

Yuki giggled. "He's kind, and funny, and handsome."

"Huh," Kel said, smilingly, "Just goes to show you. My two best friends."

"Well," Yuki said, reverting to Common, "As the Yamani say, _If the plans are laid, the fate is ruin."_

"What?" Neal asked, bemusedly, "What are you talking about?"

"Oh," Kel said, grinning, "Nothing."

Yuki flicked up her fan to hide her face, as was the Yamani way.

"Ah, Kel," said Faleron, edgily, do you want to go back? It's kind of cool out here, and…shouldn't we dance? A little? I think you're supposed to, being a convent lady and all, and I wouldn't want you to get in trouble, so…"

She grinned. "Yes. Sure."

o-O-o

They sailed around the ballroom-they being Kel and Merric. Before, it had been Kel and Cleon, and Kel and Neal, and Kel and Seaver, and Kel and Faleron. Next, Owen wanted to dance with her.

They spun around a final time, Merric tripped over his own feet, and handed her off to Owen, blushing.

Owen did not make Kel feel uncomfortable as the others had. He chattered on about everything, cheerful and optimistic, he used the adjective 'jolly' a lot.

After several minutes of dancing, he paused for breath, and, eyes wide, stared at someone over Kel's shoulder. She turned.

She dropped a deep curtsy. "Your Majesty. King Jonothan."


	6. Lady of the Own?

**This is for Brandi Heir, who gave me the most beautiful review in the whole wide world!**

**YAY.**

**You rock. A lot.**

Owen bowed.

King Jonothan waved a hand airily, and they both straightened up.

"Squire Owen, Lady Keladry…Lady Keladry, could I speak to you for a moment, please?"

Kel nodded and looked apologetically at Owen, who shrugged good naturedly.

She followed her King over to the drinks table. "Would you like a drink?" he asked, nonchalantly, "Wine, liquor…?"

She shook her head. "Alcohol gives me headaches, Your Majesty. I'm fine. Thank you."

"Um."

"You needed to speak to me?" she prompted him, curiously.

"Ah, yes. I thought you should know…" he paused. "I thought you should know that you were released unfairly."

Her eyes widened, but she didn't say anything.

"And, I feel that I did not do my duty by you, as your king, and I wish to offer you a place with the King's Own."

"Sir?" she asked, perplexedly. "But I…I…"

"You deserve it," he said, "And besides, I'd like for my champion to start talking to me again."

He gestured to the Lioness, who was looking at them curiously.

He waved, and she turned away.

"She hasn't spoken to you in almost three years?"

"Yes…" he sighed. "Will you accept?"

She looked at him searchingly for several moments. Then she said, "Yes."

Then she bowed, and said, "But we didn't you offer me a place with the riders?"

"You didn't join them for a reason, Keladry."

She nodded, and he smiled sadly. "You can go now, if you please."

She nodded again, and hurried off to Neal, Yuki, and Owen.

She told Yuki first. In Yamani. "I am now a man."

"WHAT?" Yuki said, confusedly.

"I was offered a place in the King's Own. Where Faleron serves."

Yuki nodded. "Congratulations. Why do we speak in Yamani?"

"Because it bothers Neal so much."

Yuki flicked up her fan to hide her smile. "Tell them."

Kel nodded. "Boys?""I am not a boy," Neal protested, "I am a _man_, and as such, I demand to be treated like one, and…OW!"

Yuki swatted him over the head with her shukusen. "Be quiet and listen."

Neal subsided, rubbing his head.

"I got a job."

Neal nodded and Owen smiled with feigned interest. "Really? Where?"

"In the Own."

Neal 's jaw dropped. "What?""In the Own! His Majesty said I'd been kicked out unfairly, and I could have the job if I wanted it, so of course I said yes."

Neal clapped her on the back

Owen grinned, and exclaimed, "THAT IS SO JOLLY!"

They all laughed. "Kel," Neal said, "What happened to your mask?"

"I don't need it anymore," Kel said, "But it's still there."

"Let's go tell Faleron!" Owen said, "He's right over there."

Kel nodded. "I think _I'd_ better go tell Faleron."

o-O-o

Kel walked up to Faleron, grabbed his arm, and steered him over to the buffet table.

"Chocolates?" she asked, sweetly. She waited until he had one in his mouth to say, "I hate the Convent."

He nodded sympathetically. "It's miserable there," she continued, "And King Jonothan just told me that I shouldn't have been kicked out."

Faleron's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Really," she said, "And he offered me a job."

"Where?"

"In the Own."

"What?"

"As a general dogsbody, really."

"That's great, Kel," he said, sincerely.

"So…you're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad?"

"I just thought, because you're Lord Raoul's squire, that you wouldn't want _me _in the own."

"No."

"No?"

"No."

o-O-o

Kel stood before Lord Raoul's desk. She was wearing a slightly-altered uniform of the Own-as opposed to the usual blue tunic with silver stitching and silver breeches, Kel wore a blue top with the same stitching and insignia, just more fitted and slightly longer, reaching her thighs instead of her waist. There were slits in the sides, to allow for movement. Underneath that, she wore a white shirt, simple and warm, and a pair of silver breeches with deep blue stitching.

As King Jonothan had put it, "You're not a boy-don't dress like one."

Her sandy hair was plaited down her back, and tied with a blue ribbon. At her side was a new dagger, and sword, on a leather belt.

"My Lord," she said, bowing from the waist, as the Yamani did, "I came as soon as I could. You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yes," he said, grinning at her good-naturedly. He was a real bear of a man, with curly black hair, and dark eyes. He was tall, too, almost six and a half feet, with a ruddy face, and rough stubble on his chin.

"Sit," he said, gesturing at a chair.

She sat.

"Now," he said, "Tell me about yourself. Are you physically fit? Are you prepared to go for months, without a real bed, in a cold tent, through mud, and muck, and slush, with the Third company? They're a rough bunch of men, and they won't bother you, but that's not to say you won't be bothered."

Kel nodded. "I've kept up a private training these past few years. In the convent. And I can use a pole arm, sword, and dagger. I'm no good with a bow, and I can't joust. I can lift almost twice my weight, and I am prepared for anything you'll throw at me."

He smiled and stood. "Then, welcome to the Own, Keladry."

"Kel, sir," she corrected him, "Just Kel."

"That's hardly a proper name, is it? Just Kel. Hm."

She laughed. He laughed with her, then, opening the tent flap, said, "Time to meet the family."

Kel stepped out into the light, wincing a bit. The men were assembled outside, lined up in rows. Faleron was there, too, wearing a green tunic edged in gold. He was wrong, Kel thought, gold looked fine on him.  
The Third Company was a fine-looking group of men, very impressive in their silver-and-blue uniforms, but they looked at her with something resembling dislike as she stepped into the glare of the midday sun. She looked at them appraisingly. Raoul stood beside her, and said, loudly, "This is Keladry of Mindelan. She is fourteen and a half. She is a new member of the Own. She's a bit young, but she's good for the job. I don't want to hear of any of you bothering her. Now, dismissed."  
The men dispersed, muttering, and Kel stood there uncomfortably, unsure of what to do.  
"We leave tomorrow," Raoul told her, "So get packed. Tonight you sleep in the palace, as there are no…ah…ladies barracks."  
She nodded and trotted off.

Back in her room, she surveyed her belongings. She had been issued three uniforms, including the one that she was wearing.  
She had her newly purchased sword, dagger, and her glaive.  
Also, two pairs of boots, one pair of slippers, a cloak-brown-four pairs of breeches, five shirts, seven colored tunics, several pairs of stockings, two shifts, a simple green frock, three nightshirts, one nightgown, a comb, a canteen full of water, a book, some ribbons, and teeth-cleaner.  
She packed this all tightly into a saddlebag, and filled the other with her bedroll, a tent, and a towel.  
She wrapped her weapons separately, in oilcloth, then brought it all to Raoul for approval.  
He approved it and sent her to go get something to eat.  
She wandered off to the mess hall. She sat down across from Neal, holding two cups of steaming tea. It was bitter, but good on a day like that one. "Hi."  
"Mmmf."  
"Tea?"  
He took it gratefully and sipped, then said, "M' going to miss you."  
"I'll miss you as well."  
"You were my best friend."  
"You were mine, too."  
"You know I'll always be there for you, right?"  
"Yes."  
"Alright, then."  
They sat in silence for a while, then silently got up and parted.


	7. Disrespect and a Horse

**Thanks to Baby Girl's a Queen for the lovely review. Also Aria657, Brandi Heir (hi!) and spazzysassyangel. This is a birthday update for myself, (happy birthday, em!) and I have also updated 'Prank War', and starting a new story. Yay!**

**: )**

Kel yanked on a green tunic and a pair of breeches, slipped on a pair of boots, and rushed down the stairs. Lord Raoul was waiting for her.

"Excuse me, excuse me." Why was there always such a crowd whenever she needed to get someplace?

Neal was leaving today, as was Victaria, and she needed to say good bye to Yukimi.

She elbowed her way into the mess hall and, grabbing a cup of juice, sat down at the table next to Victaria.

"Hi."

"Hello," said Victaria.

"I just want you to know, that even though I'm leaving the Convent, I really appreciate what you did for me while I was there, and I'm going to miss you."

Victaria nodded. "I'll miss you, too," she said, "But why are you leaving?"

"I can't stay," Kel said, pleadingly, "I really can't. Don't you understand? It cramps me, squashes me down."

"I see," she said, but Kel could tell that she didn't.

The older girl hugged her briefly, then left.

Kel sat and stared into her cup.

"Hi there," someone said. She recognized the voice…she thought.

She looked up. It was that sergeant. Damian? Damian of Masbolle?

He was carrying a plate and a muffin. In his teeth, he held a cup of tea.

Kel giggled. "Hungry?"

He nodded vigorously, then winced as the tea slopped over the sides of the cup. She stood and took the plate from him, saying, "Can I give you a hand?"

She set it down in front of him, and sat down. He set down his cup and offered her the muffin.

"I got this for you. We're riding a long way."

She shook her head, but he set it in front of her anyway. "Trust me," he said, "This is not a good time to worry about your weight."

"I'm _not_ worried about my weight, thank you very much," she retorted, flushing, "I'm just nervous."

"Well, eat anyway."

She bit into the muffin-it was her favorite- anyway, and nodded her thanks. He smiled.

He was handsome, now that she stopped to think about it, with high cheekbones, wavy black hair, and flashing blue eyes. He had a charming smile that made her melt inside, too.

Neal walked over to the table and sat down. He immediately lolled over to rest his head on Kel's shoulder and yawned widely. "Mind if I sleep here?" he asked, drowsily.

"Please don't," she said, laughing, "Yuki will be jealous."

He sat up, and stared across the table at Damian. "Dom?"

So that was his name.

"Dom, what's going on? Why are you in your uniform?"

He paused a moment, then seemed to realize something.

"Oh! You're leaving." He turned to Kel. "And so are you."

She nodded.

He shook his head slowly. "Everyone is leaving-even my Yamani blossom!"

Kel snorted into her cup. Neal gazed at her oddly.

"Do you mock me, and my devotion to my love?"

"Yes," she responded, straight faced.

Dom laughed. "We better go, before Meathead decides to regale us with his poetry."

"Meathead?" she asked, incredulously.

Neal scowled at the two of them. "Neither of you appreciate my genius," he said, in a wounded tone,

"It is my fortune to be misunderstood."

Dom nodded. "Sure, Meathead."

Kel giggled. Meathead.

Neal glared at his cousin. "I am never going to forgive you for this," he threatened, "I hope you realize that!"

"Yes, yes," Dom said, placidly, "You better go, your knight mistress will be wanting you."

Neal groaned. "I have no doubt."

He stood, and Kel rose also. "I promised My Lord I'd be there as soon as possible," she explained to Dom.

He stood as well, and followed her to where Raoul was waiting-in the practice courts.

Kel unsheathed her sword, and said, "My Lord?"

"Time to see what you can do," answered the big man, drawing his own weapon.

They both took a stance, and began. Kel held her own reasonably well, considering her opponent, but conceded defeat when his sword was pressed against her throat.

"I concede," she said, dropping her sword.

"Not bad," he said, "You need exercise, and you need to work on your blocks, but all in all, not bad."

Dom snorted. "Not bad? My Lord, she held up longer than most of the men in the Own can."

o-O-o

Kel followed Raoul to the stables. He talked while he walked, and she had to jog to keep up with him. "The palace will give you a horse," he was saying, "And you have your pick. There are four, I think."

He led her into the stables, and she breathed in deeply. It was a familiar smell, hay, wood, and horse hair.

He showed her the four horses. One was a skinny sort of thing, but strong looking, with white hair and a yellowish mane. Kel checked its teeth and hooves, and then moved on to the next horse, a sweet mare, with dull eyes and a powerful build. She had black fur and a black mane.

The next horse was a brown gelding, a wild sort of thing, but handsome, nonetheless.

And the last horse was perfect. She was a sweet gray mare with a black mane and tail. Her hooves and teeth were good, and her eyes were lively. The horse responded well to her touch, and Kel sensed a wild spark in her. She was strongly built, too.

Kel stroked her, and ran her fingers through her stiff mane. She felt ridges under her fingers, and she parted the hair to read numbers, burned into her flesh. She looked up at Raoul, horrified.

"Wha-?"

"It's a brand," he replied, sighing, "Some farmers mark their cattle that way."

"Hmf," Kel retorted, "I don't think much of that. I think I'll call her Storm."

Raoul nodded. "She's a good horse. You should go and get her set up with saddle and bridle and such-and you need armor."

o-O-o

Kel sat fed Storm a carrot, then hoisted herself up onto the saddle. It was difficult, even though the armor of the Own was light. She wore chest mail, chest plates, and a helmet. She wore no helmet-mail, because, as Lord Raoul put it, digging metal links out of one's scalp was…unpleasant. The helmet was slightly too large, and it chafed her ears, but she loved the feeling of importance that it gave her. She was one of the Own.

They were to start moving at midday, but Lord Raoul had them leave two bells before, saying that the way they moved, they'd be two bells late with the head start.

Kel was positioned behind Lord Raoul and Faleron, with a man named Wolset behind her. He was very loud, and very rude. He kept on saying things like "bloody girl…can't ride a horse…prob'ly can't pick up that pigsticker…"

Kel slipped on her 'lump' face, and did her best to ignore him. Faleron's hand kept drifting over to his sword, as though he was going to draw it, but thankfully he did not act on that impulse. They'd been riding for about four and a half hours, when, nudging Storm with her heels, Kel moved up to ride beside him.

"You alright?" he muttered, jerking his head back at Wolset. "That idiot's not bothering you too much, is he?"

"He seems to be bothering you more than he is me," Kel observed, smiling.

"And anyway, he's just an idiot, like you said. He'll see."

"Yeah."

Lord Raoul fell back a little. "Kel, Faleron, fall back and tell the others that we'll be stopping soon, there's an inn up ahead."

"Yessir!"

"Yes, My Lord."

Faleron rode around the left to tell the men, and Kel told the people on the right.

"Stop! We're stopping, you need to stop!"

They ignored her and kept on nudged Storm to go faster, and cut ahead of one man. "I said, stop."

He pretended not to notice her, but sneered slightly.

She grabbed onto his forearm. "Stop, now."

He glared at her. "Why, you little-"

"Feran!" barked a man, "Latrine duty. Next two weeks."

He looked around. "Anyone else want to join him?"

"No."

"Nossir."

"No, Sergeant."

"No."

"Nope."

"Not really."

He glared at Feran, and growled, "Good. Get down, all of you, and set up."

"Yessir."

He turned to Kel. "And as for _you, _madam,"

Kel bowed her head, ready for the rebuke. "Yessir?"

"How was I?"

"Huh?"

He pulled off his helmet and shook his head. "Mithros, it's hot in there."

"Damian?"

"It's 'Domitan', actually," he said, looking slightly insulted, "And yes, me."

"Sorry. Thank you."

"Yeah. But hey, got you out of the heat, huh?"

"Yeah," she said, grinning. "Shouldn't we go set up?"

"Yeah, I guess so."


	8. Tricks and Gifts

**Thank you, Aria657, TheWackedOne, Brandi Heir, and Spazzysassyangel for your lovely reviews.**

Kel stretched. She was sore and stiff all over, and she had a large bruise on her forearm.

The inn was large, but even so, it was still five men to a room, and there were a hundred men in the third company. Kel got her own room, and Faleron and Lord Raoul shared.

The beds were soft, the food was good, and there were large stables.

Kel ate with Faleron, Sergeant Domitan, and Lord Raoul that night. Supper was good-heavier fare than what she was used to, but good.

She was acutely aware of the fact that none of the Own, apart from Sergeant Domitan, had accepted her.

They would not speak to her, and they muttered mutinously about her, not bothering to hide their contempt.

She felt that, had she stayed on and become a squire, they would not have minded her so much, but they felt that she had failed and been given a second chance because she was a girl.

"Well," said Sergeant Domitan, yawning, "I'm turning in."

"Likewise," said Lord Raoul, "I'm exhausted. Faleron, don't stay out too late."

"No, sir," said Faleron, shaking his head.

The men left, and Kel and Faleron sat awkwardly by themselves. Faleron downed his cup and looked down at his feet. Kel cleared her throat and tried to make conversation. "Um, do you enjoy being Lord Raoul's squire?"

"Yes," Faleron said, "He's a good man."

"I see. I know that you have been near the border. Is it dangerous there?"

"Not really, except for a few skirmishes with the Scanrans."

"Do the men really prank all the time?"

"Yeah," Faleron said, "And, no offense, but you _are_ sort of…not well liked, I guess, and they might prank you, too."

"I know," Kel said, "I'll be careful. Only…wha's the worst you think they'd do?"

"Well," he said, deliberately, "Did you lock your door before you came down?"

"No-o."

He smiled. "I'd check my bed before I went to sleep, if I was you."

She shuddered. "They wouldn't really, though, would they?"

"Maybe. I don't know."

"Well, I'm going to bed. G'night."

"Night. Remember what I said!"

"Not much chance of my forgetting," she said, looking at him over her shoulder. She walked into the hallway and looked around for her room.

She spotted it and walked over. There was a note stuck on the door.

_Sleep tight, Lady._

She crumpled the note in her hand, and pushed open the door.

She was hit by a wave of icy water. It crashed over her head and soaked her to the bone. "Aaugh," she shrieked. "Mithros's-"

Doors opened, heads popped out. Several men whom she did not recognize stared at her, laughing. She flushed crimson and strode into her room.

Furious, she stripped off her wet clothes. She wrung them out over the washbasin and hung them on the chair to dry. She slipped into a warm, _dry_, nightgown and went over to the bed.

It was a large bed, and she flipped up the pillows. There was nothing underneath, or in them.

She looked under the bed, then threw back the blankets and had to stifle another shriek.

A dead snake was coiled on the bed.

Tears streamed down Kel's face-in addition to a fear of heights, she was terrified of snakes.

One had bitten her on the heel when she was six, and she had never quite gotten over the shock.

She took the poker from by the fireplace and prodded the thing, to make sure it was dead.

It was.

She shoved the poker under the lifeless body and lifted it up, not without some effort- the thing was _massive_, three feet long, at least- and dropped it into the washbasin.

Keladry glared around the room, looking for more places they could have stowed a little animal.

Her eyes lit upon a small brown sack on the desk, which had certainly not been there when she left.

She moved cautiously over to the bag, and prodded it with the poker.

Nothing happened. She poked it open, and prodded inside it. She heard a faint rustle, and almost leaped out of her skin.

Holding her breath, Kel peered inside the bag. She didn't see anything, except for a wad of tissue.

Laughing inwardly at her own foolishness, she pulled it out and set it on the desk. She pulled open the layers of tissue and found a slip of parchment that read

_You may not have become a knight, but you can still be the Lady of the Own. _

_Bruise balm-you'll need it._

_A friend_

Kel smiled and peeled away the last few tissue layers. It was a large stone jar, heavy and cool to the touch.

She opened the jar to reveal a thick paste. Tentatively, she dipped her fingers in and dabbed some on her sore shoulder. She rubbed it in, and was delighted to find that it stopped aching almost immediately.

She closed the jar and climbed into bed, wondering who her mysterious benefactor could be.

o-O-o

The next morning, Kel woke early, to birds singing, and the smell of meat frying. She sat up sleepily and yawned. Tossing back the covers, she put on her slippers and walked over to the washbasin to clean her teeth. She got out her special Yamani tooth-powder, and bent over the basin.

She yelped in surprise, and stumbled back, swearing. "Mithros's spear, what in the name of all gods is that?"

Then she remembered the presents she had received last night. "Mithros and the Goddess, curse it all, what should I do with this?"

She picked it up and deposited it into the bag which she had gotten the bruise-balm in, and continued to clean her teeth.

She dressed quickly, in a becoming red tunic and a cotton undershirt, then slipped on a pair of woolen breeches. She pulled on stockings and boots, and fastened on her dagger. She ran a brush through her long hair and tied it back with a ribbon, then grabbed her glaive and headed down to the stables. There was a nice open field over there where she could practice.

She was surprised to find that the field was completely empty-she had expected that the rest of the Own would want to practice as well- but was not unpleased. It was nice to be able to practice by herself.

The glaive was comfortable in her hands, and she swung it easily in a complicated pattern dance.

For half an hour, it was just her, the glaive, and the earth. Then the men of the Own started to come out, swords in hand, ready to practice.

She stopped then, but not before they noticed what she was doing with her 'pigsticker'.

They looked at her oddly, half impressed, half despising.

Then they continued on with their business.

Except for one man, who came up to her and said, "Good morning."

She nodded, panting.

"I'm Lerant, Lerant of Eldorne."

She stuck out her hand. "Keladry of Mindelan. You know Victaria of Queenscove?"

He shook it. "Yes."

"She speaks very highly of you."

Lerant smiled. Victaria had been right, he _was _good looking. He had a high forehead and cheekbones, and straight, floppy brown hair that hung in his green-gray eyes, giving him the look of a puppy dog.

"I want to apologize for the way some of the men have been acting. They don't dislike you, they're just…"

"I know," she said, smiling.

"I saw you with your pole arm," he said, "it was brilliant. Really. What's it called?"

"A glaive," Kel replied, smiling.

"May I?" he asked, holding out a hand.

She handed him the glaive and he inspected it. After several minutes he handed it back and whistled.

"That's some weapon there. Am I saying it right? Glaive?"

"Yes."

"Wow. Ah, the cooks are making some delicious looking breakfast, and I've already exercised enough for one morning. Care to join me?"

"Gladly," she said, and they walked off to the inn.


	9. Ballad of the Whisper Man

**Thanks to Dom-Loves-Kel, TheWackedOne, Brandi Heir, Spazzysassyangel, and Aria 657 for your reviews.**

**Hope you like!**

Kel and Lerant sat down and waited for the serving wench to come over.

A group of Players had stopped in, and was entertaining a large portion of the Third Company.

"Tell me," Lerant asked, curiously, "what's the Convent like?"

Kel shuddered. "Horrible. No exercising, you have to wear the most ridiculous gowns, and corsets, and put on face paint, and sing, and write, and curtsy-" she stopped herself and put on her Yamani mask. Warriors didn't complain.

Lerant grinned. He knew an old grievance when he heard one. "So you're from Fief Mindelan?"

"Yes," Kel said. She hastily changed the subject, using one of the tactics that she had learned at the Convent.

"What is your Fief? Irenroha?"

"No," he said, shortly. "Eldorne." He looked over at the Players.

"Oh. Is it nice there?" she asked, awkwardly, "I know it is very warm in the south this time of year, but I've never quite understood how you stand the hot weather…"

But now she did understand, more clearly, why he was in the Own instead of a knight.

As the eldest son of the Fief Eldorne, he was entitled a place in the page training. But because of his aunt's high treason, it would have been easier just to join the Own, and less embarrassing as well.

He nodded, as if he knew what she was thinking. "It is…less than pleasant. Not because of the weather."

"Do you have any siblings?" she asked, trying to turn the conversation to happier subjects.

"No, you?" he asked, "I know Inness, Anders, and Conal, but are there any others?"

"Yes," Kel said, nodding. "Demadina and Patricine, Adalia, Oranie, and Avinar. The girls are all married, and Avinar goes to the University."

Lerant nodded. "Look," he exclaimed, "a bard. I wonder who they're singing of now…"

Strains of crude music drifted over, along with the jingling of bells and the clapping of several men.

"I love ballads," Kel said, "and I think it's so clever, how they make up the lyrics as they go along."

They walked over to see who was singing-a tall, blond man with blue eyes, and a shorter, blond girl with green eyes.

"They could pass as Scanrans," Kel muttered. Lerant nodded.

"_Eyes like amethysts, _

_Hair ablaze,_

_Lightning flashing, _

_Moonlight to graze,_

_Lioness is hunting_," sang the man, in a deep baritone.

"I guess that answers your question," Kel answered, nudging Lerant.

"Yes," he said, "but I don't think much of the lyrics. They had to rhyme 'ablaze' with 'graze'."

"Picky."

"Hey," he called, grinning, "Got a song about the Lady of the Own?"

Kel treaded on his foot. He yelped.

The girl looked over, smiling. "The who?"

"What?" Lerant asked, feigning surprise. "You haven't heard of the Lady of the Own?"

"No," she said. "Tell."

"Well," Lerant said, "she joined the Own, instead of becoming a knight. She's got sand-colored hair, and green-brown eyes."

The girl nodded. "Hazel."

"Yes," Lerant agreed, "Hazel. And she stands ten feet tall, and she uses a mighty pigsticker. Lops of the enemies heads with one blow."

Kel leaned harder on his foot, and decided that she knew what she could do with the dead snake.

He ignored her. The men were chuckling, both at Lerant's tale and at Kel's embarrassment.

"What's her name?" the girl asked, hands on hips.

"Keladry of Mindelan."

"Well, nothing rhymes with that," the girl said, frankly.

The men roared.

Kel smiled weakly, and slipped away, vowing to kill him later.

Cheeks flaming, she stepped outside.

Lerant followed her. "What's wrong?" he asked, grinning, "Don't you like a little well-deserved recognition?"

"Recognition for what?" she cried, "I haven't done anything!"

"Yet," he corrected her. "You haven't done anything yet."

"But still," she said, "they sing ballads about legends, like Lord Raoul, and…and the Lioness, and people like that!"

"Actually, My Lord hates it when they sing about him. Once, in Whitepine, the men picked up a tune about the 'fierce and mighty Giantkiller', and sang it all night long, and My Lord was furious. It was really very funny."

Kel giggled despite herself. Then she said, "But no more of this 'Lady of the Own' nonsense, alright?"

"Fine."

o-O-o

"Kel!" someone yelled. Kel turned. It was Lord Raoul.

"Yes, My Lord?"

"I need you to bring a message for me before we leave," he called, waving her over. "There's a man in the inn, wearing a bright red cloak. Bring this over to him."

"Yes, My Lord."

"Oh, and Kel?"

"Yes, My Lord?"

"What's this about your new name?"

"Sorry, My Lord?"

"Lady of the Own?"

"That's not _my_ fault-" she started, but then realized that he was laughing at her.

"I'm just fooling you. Here," he said, handing her a tightly furled piece of paper. "Bring this in. And just a word of advice, Kel?"

"Yes, My Lord?"

"Treat this man with respect."

"Yes, My Lord."

She trotted off to the inn, holding the paper tightly. She pushed open the door and scanned the room, looking for someone in a red cloak.

There he was, sitting in the corner.

She hurried over to him. She bowed. "I bear a message, sir, from Lord Sir Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak, Knight Commander of the King's Own."

The man turned. "Well, now," he said, "Tha's quite an impressive title. What have ye for me, laddybuck?"

Kel blinked. He wasn't handsome, that was certain, but he had nice eyes, and his appearance was…striking. He had a large nose and brown hair, very white teeth and a muscular build. He looked to be around six foot four, and thirty five, maybe forty years old.

The man blinked back at her. "Well now, you're a lass!"

Kel bowed. "Yes, sir."

"Well, you have a message for me?"

"Yes, sir," she said, holding it out. "Here it is. From Lord Sir Raoul of Goldenla-"

"Now, now," the man said, "I know Raoul."

He read it quickly, eyes widening, then reached into a pocket and pulled out a quill and a small stone bottle of ink. He glanced up at her.

"Want to see something useful?" he asked, smiling.

Kel nodded. He handed her the quill. It was strangely heavy, and when she examined the nib, she found a tiny dagger tied to it. She caught her breath. Nobody would ever see this coming, that was certain.

She handed it back to him, respectfully. "Sir."

"Can't be too careful, me lass. Can't be too careful." Then he flipped the paper over and scratched out a reply. He rolled it tightly and handed it to Kel.

Then he slipped the quill and ink back into his pocket, stood up and grinned.

"Well now, lass, best o' luck to ye."

He left, leaving a gaping Kel in his wake.


	10. Meetings and Frustration

**Thanks for the reviews, Aria657, Spazzysassyangel, Brandi Heir, Orohippus, TheWackedOne, Katy-Chan, Dom-Loves-Kel, and .Day for all of your great reviews.**

Kel ran to deliver the message, and catch up with Lord Raoul.

"My Lord," she gasped, "he sent a reply."

"Oh, stop it with all the 'My Lord' nonsense," he said, taking the scroll. "My mother named me Raoul because she liked the name. If she'd wanted me to be called My Lord, then she would have named me that. Maybe I should change my name to My Lord, and then you people would call me Raoul!"

"Yes, My Lord."

Raoul sighed. "I give up."

He read it quickly, showing no emotion. "My Lord?" Kel said, tentatively.

He rolled it back up. "Yes?"

"Who was that man?""That was the Whisper Man. George Cooper, in some circles."

"The Lioness's husband?"

"That's the one."

Kel's jaw dropped.

"I can't believe you've never met," Raoul continued. "Haven't you met the Lioness yet?"

"No, sir."

"Hmm. Well, I'll have to introduce the two of you. She rides with us sometimes, you know."

"Yes, My Lord."

Raoul looked at the sky. "Looks like rain. You got a cloak?"

"Yes sir, not like the Own's, but yes."

"Well, we need to get you a company one. Come on, I think we have one in the supplies that'll fit you."

Kel jogged after him. "My Lord?"

"Yes?"

"Where's Faleron? I meant to talk to him this morning…"

"He's exercising the horses, I think."

"My Lord?"

"Mm?"

"What was that about? Forgive me, but it was very odd."

"Scanra. Actually, Kel, once we've finished at supplies, will you go and get Flyndan and Dom for me?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"What did I say about the 'My Lord' talk?"

"Sorry, My Lord."

o-O-o

Kel went after Flyndan first-he was easy, he was in the stables with his horses, Opal and Winter. Then Kel began the more arduous task of finding Sergeant Domitan.

She started at his room.

"Domitan? Sergeant Domitan, are you in here?" she called, rapping on the door of his room.

"Not in here," someone hollered from inside. "I can tell you where he is, though. Just wait a moment."

Kel screwed up her face and prayed to the gods that it was _not_ Wolset.

Thedoor opened to reveal a man, tall and handsome, with fair skin and blond hair.

"Keladry of Mindelan."

"Um, yes, sir?" she said, questioningly. He seemed to know her.

"I saw you practicing, your first day of training. You were on an enormous horse, too big for you."

"Peachblossom," she said, smiling.

"Yes. I know that you were expelled unfairly, even before midwinter. I also know that you possess great inner strength."

"Y-yes. Sir. Thank you," she stuttered. This man was kind, but he made her feel odd.

"Dom is in Corporal Wolset's room. I think it had something to do with his clothing…and a frog…and several buckets of pond water."

"Yes, sir," she said, "Thank you, sir."

"No," he said, bowing courteously. "It is I who thank you, Keladry of Mindelan."

"Oh. Um. You're welcome?"

He bowed again and shut the door.

Quite bemused, she headed off to find Dom. She banged on the door. "Um, Sergeant Domitan? My Lord wants you, by Supplies."

The door opened to reveal a short man wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, a shifty-looking Wolset, and a blushing Dom.

The reason that Domitan was blushing was quite obvious-he was wearing a blanket. And nothing else.

"Um," Kel said, unsure of what to do. "Is this a bad time? S'just, My Lord needs to see you. It's important, he said."

Wolset chuckled. "Well, Dom, going to show the men your new outfit?"

Dom growled at Wolset, and started digging through his bags.

"Hey!" Wolset protested, "What're you doing?"

"Getting something to wear!""But that's all I have for the next four days! Hey!""Well," Dom growled, "You should have thought of that before you decided to soak all of my clothing in pond water!"

Kel stifled a laugh and said, "I'll, um, wait outside, shall I?"

Wolset and the other man roared with laughter, and Kel crept out into the hall.

Several minutes, five bangs, and one resounding crash later, Dom walked out, slamming the door behind him. He looked at Kel, who had to stifle another giggle-Wolset was several inches shorter than Dom, and quite a bit fatter, and the clothes fit badly.

Dom glared at her and started to walk quickly down the hall. Kel jogged to keep up with him. "I'm not sure what My Lord needs," she said, "I think that it's something-" she stopped herself. As the Yamani said, _You never need to unsay anything you did not say in the first place._

"Something important," she finished, smiling.

"Hmm," Dom said, "It better be."

o-O-o

"My Lord," she said, breathlessly. "I found him."

Raoul nodded. "Dismissed."

Kel bowed and walked away. She heard Flyndan say, "You know, Raoul, you're treating her better than most of the new men. You want to be careful with that, it'll be said you-"

She sped up, and angrily walked to the stables. She went over to Storm's stall and picked up a corncob and began to rub her with it.

The mare whickered gently and lipped her forehead.

Kel grinned and dug in her pocket for a chunk of carrot, which she fed to the horse.

"I can't believe it," she said, angrily. "Who does that Flyndan think he is? My Lord does not treat me any better than the men, I know it. Is he the one spreading all these rumors in the camp?"

Storm stepped on her foot. Kel dropped the brush and yelped.

"My, my, my," someone drawled sarcastically. "Lady of the Own, your dulcet tones would make the Goddess halt in her tracks, and swoon with envy."

Kel whirled around to see Lerant leaning against a pole.

"Oh," she said, "It's you."

"Is that all the greeting I get?" he asked, mock-offended.

"Well," Kel said, "You ought to have better manners than to sneak up on someone while they're-"

"Whining?" he interrupted.

"I was not _whining_," she said, angrily, "I was just-"

"Whining. I know whining when I hear it, and you were whining."

She smacked his arm and glared at him.

He grinned down at her.

"I could kill you with my glaive, you know. Some dark night…"

"Could not."

"Could."

"Could not."

"Could."

"Could not."

"Could."


	11. Showing Him

**Thanks to Aria657, Dom-Loves-Kel, TheWackedOne, and SilverGoldsun-Night. And. Day for your reviews.**

The rain came down in sheets. Kel could hardly see her hand in front of her face, let alone the narrow road. Mud splashed up and dotted her breeches, and she kept her eyes on the man ahead of her. She was cold, and very wet, and coming down with a cold.

Most of the men in the Own hated her, and she had just discovered that Storm was scared of snakes.

She had never been happier in her life.

"Doin' alright, Kel?" Lerant called from behind her.

She looked around. "Never better!"

"Crazed!" he hollered, and she laughed.

A stocky Bazhir rode beside her, a blunt nosed fellow with curly dark hair. He saw her looking at him and grinned at her. "I am Qasim Ibn Zirhud," he said.

"Keladry of Mindelan," she said, nodding.

"I know. You are famous. Or, should I say, infamous."

She sighed. "Sadly," she said, but her words were swallowed in a sudden thunderclap.

"What?" he yelled, cupping a hand around his ear.

"Sadly," she called back.

He nodded. "They will accept you."

"I only hope so," she said, smiling.

o-O-o

They pitched their tents in a mostly-dry field, three miles from Owlshollow. It was cold and foggy, and Kel was glad of the warm, thick burnoose. There was meat for dinner, hot, juicy, and slightly burnt. It burned her tongue and fingers, and the salty bread that went with it was tough, but it was good, together.

Kel sat with Faleron and Lerant. "I, for one, can't wait to get and back for the Progress to start," Faleron said. "The music, tournaments, good food, and of course, all the pretty ladies"

Kel shook her head, sighing. "Progress?""Yes," Lerant said, "The King and Queen are introducing the Princess Shinkokami to the realm. The Own rides along."

"Oh," Kel said, confused. "But what about bandits and such? Surely they keep on going during Progress."

"Yes," Faleron admitted, "But there are three companies, and Lord Raoul rides with ours. The Second is up at the border, so the First will take care of that stuff."

"Mm," Kel said, broodingly. "I don't think I'll like the Progress, much."

"Why?" Lerant asked.

"I'm not one for fuss and feathers," she said. "I like a warm bed and simple clothes. I dress up if I must, and this sounds like quite a bit of dressing up."

"Oh," he said, smirking slightly. "What do you think of that, _Squire_?"

"I think Kel looks quite nice when she dresses up, _Standard Bearer_." Faleron said absently.

Lerant hooted, and Kel looked on, puzzled. The two seemed to have a rather tepid liking for one another, but they showed it oddly.

"Well," someone drawled, sarcastically, "If this isn't just so sweet."

They turned around. It was Wolset.

"Oh, go away, Wolset." Faleron said, scowling at him.

"Why?" Wolset asked, grinning widely. "I thought I'd stop in an' visit the _Lady of the Own_ for a while."

Kel glared at him. "Go away.""Why?" he asked, again.

"Go away," she said, strongly.

"I don't want to," he said, belligerently.

She suspected he was drunk. She stood up quickly, straightening to her full five feet, ten inches. He glared up at her. "What's th' matter?"

She grabbed onto his collar and twisted, bringing his unshaven face up to hers.

"Listen," she said, angrily. "You are going to leave me and my friends alone. You are going to be quiet until you can be _nice_. Then you may come and apologize. Understand?"Wolset nodded, his face reddening slightly. "So," he said, and squirmed. "C'n I go now?"

She almost laughed. He sounded for all the world like one of her little nephews, caught nicking apples. She set him down, then whispered, "Next time, remember, I'm bigger than you, Corporal."

She sat down heavily and closed her eyes, listening to him stumble off to his tent. When she opened them, she saw Faleron and Lerant staring at her like she'd just grown another head. "What?" she asked.

"You…" said Lerant.

"You just sent Wolset away. It's like Joren all over again," said Faleron, grinning.

"Joren?" Who's Joren?" Lerant demanded. "Tell!"

"Soon," she said, absently. "So is it like hazing then? Do they do this to all the new recruits?"

"Well, yes," Faleron answered. "But not so much, really. You're the _Girl_, you see, and they think you got in dishonorably."

She shrugged. "I'll live."

"Who's Joren?" Lerant asked again.

"Joren of Stone Mountain." Faleron said, leaning back. "He's Sir Inness's squire, and-"

"What?" Kel asked, sitting bolt upright. "But that's my brother!"

"What?" Faleron said, aghast. "But he…"

"So what?" asked Lerant, scowling. "Why does it even matter?"

"He tormented Kel while she was at the palace." Faleron answered, briefly.

"Oh," Lerant answered. "I heard you got kicked out at Midwinter, is that true?"

"Yes," Faleron said, "But it wasn't fair.""Oh, come," she said, sadly. "Do you really believe Lord Wyldon would lie?"

"Yes!"

Kel sighed and changed the subject. "Do either of you know a tall, blond man? Handsome, pale, kind of strange?"

Lerant bit his lip. "Maybe Jared Larse.""Who?"

"He's got a brother in the Riders. He's a bit off," he said, tapping his head, "But he's the best tracker we've got, and he's smart when he's not having one of his spells. His family's Players."

She nodded. "Oh."

"Jared?" Faleron asked, musingly. "Don't know that I've met him."

Lerant shrugged and stretched. "Well, I'm off to bed."

"I'm going too," Faleron said, "My Lord will wake us at dawn."

"I'm staying a bit longer," Kel said, waving.

The boys left, but she stayed there for a while afterward, gazing into the flames and thinking.


	12. Sadly

**Thanks to Aria657, SilverGoldsun-Night. And. Day., and TheWackedOne for your reviews.**

**Um, so, I just realized that I haven't done a disclaimer in like, ever, so to all of those people who think I'm Tamora Pierce…thanks!**

Kel stretched and kicked her blankets off.

She blinked up into the early morning sun and brushed dew off her face. She gazed around confusedly for a few moments, then remembered that she had set up a hammock on the edge of the camp and forgotten to put up something to keep the wet off-not a mistake she would be making again soon.

She grabbed her casual uniform and walked behind a tree to change out of her very wet nightshirt. She peeled the material off from where it was sticking to her belly and admired her bug bites-her stomach was decorated with them. She slipped on her navy breeches and pulled on the loosely woven tan shirt and royal blue overshirt-like a vest, just with lacings in the front and brown stitching on the sides and short sleeves.

It fit her perfectly-it had been done by the Queen's dressmaker, Lalasa Isran, whose uncle, Gower Isran, had been Kel's servant in her incomplete year at the palace.

She packed up her things into her saddlebags, then downed a water-skin and grabbed her glaive. She walked away from the trees into the dusty place set aside for a very temporary practice court, and began a pattern dance. She worked at it for half an hour, starting with a very easy one and ending with an extremely complicated one. She finished with a stamp and a twist of her glaive, tossing it up and catching it neatly in her left hand.

She turned around and saw Lord Raoul leaning against a tree.

"My Lo-sir!" she gasped, and bowed hastily.

He sighed and said, "Well, at least I've taught you about the 'My Lord' thing, now I just need to train you not to bow."

"Sorry?" she said, confused. Should she have curtsied?

He smiled. "That's quite a pole arm you have there. May I?"

She handed it to him, saying, "It's called a _naginata, _or glaive."

"Nice weight," he commented. "Good heft to it, too."

He plucked a curly hair and ran it across the blade, slicing it in half.

"Impressive," he said, handing it back.

She nodded. "Thank you, My-sir."

"I was coming to tell you to get ready, but I see you've already done that."

"Yes, sir."

"I'd like you to ride with Wolset today, Keladry."

"Wolset, sir?"

"Yes."

"But, sir-" she started to protest, then stopped herself. It would not be good if he labeled her a whiner.

"Yes, My Lord."

He gave a startled laugh. "I guess I know what you think of that order!"

She ducked her head.

"Would you like to know why I want you riding with him?"

"Yes, sir."

"Oh ho," he said, "That's how it is, is it?"

He laced his fingers together and rocked back on his heels.

"Sir?" Kel asked, tentatively.

"Wolset needs to know that you're not just a jumped-up court lady in breeches, that you can ride, and, if needed, fight. They all need to know that. "

"Yes, sir."

"And, Kel," he said, looking at her sharply.

"Yes, sir?"

"You don't have to like it."

o-O-o

Kel sat numbly on top of Storm. It was as cold as it had been for the past three days, and as wet. Her riding companion was pointedly ignoring her, and she was bored to death. Both Faleron and Lerant had been exiled to the front of the riders, with Lord Raoul and Commander Whiteford.

Storm whinnied, and Kel patted her head sympathetically. "I know," she whispered, "I know."

Wolset grunted and Kel looked up. "Yes?" she said, coolly.

He shrugged, then said, "Y'know we're going after bandits, right?"

"No," Kel said.

"Well, that's why we're dragging out to Owlshollow. Bandits."

"Mm," she said, wondering why he was telling her this.

"It's not easy," he said, glancing at her.

Now she understood. He was trying to scare her off.

She shrugged and pulled her burnoose tighter around her shoulders. She was here to stay, and they had all better learn _that_ first thing.

o-O-o

They arrived in Owlshollow at midday, and Kel immediately wished she hadn't eaten lunch. The place was blackened with grime and soot from the fires started by the bandits. Dead lay in the street, their faces covered with scraps of cloth.

She saw a doll lying in the mud, and she picked it up and started to clean it with her handkerchief. Was the child who owned this doll dead, too? She tucked the doll into her belt and looked around.

Most of the dead were burned, blackened and unrecognizable, and Kel could stand that. The worst were the ones who looked like they were sleeping. She stared at one such woman, a pretty blonde thing, and a voice said, "Suffocated."

She looked up. It was a commoner, a tall man with wavy brown hair and a gaunt, tearstained face and a wailing toddler on his hip.

"I know, sir," she said, sighing.

"My wife," said the man, sadly.

Kel gasped, horrified. "Oh, sir, I…I apologize, I'm so sorry! I…I…"

He nodded, smiling sadly. He looked at his wife. "She was a good woman. She died painlessly, which is a blessing. More than others got."

Kel nodded. "The Yamanis say that if the dead are blessed, the living are cursed."

The man gave a startled laugh. "Yamanis? You don't look Yamani."

Kel smiled and bowed, saying, "I'm not, sir. Keladry of Mindelan, soldier of the King's Own, at your service."

He nodded, trying to comfort the squalling child. "Thaddeus Afern, carpenter."

"May I?" Kel asked, holding her hands out for the babe.

He nodded. Kel took the child and tickled him under the chin. "Hello, there," she said, smiling. The toddler gurgled a laugh.

"How old is he?" she asked, smiling.

"Two," Thaddeus said, "His name's Kayern, but we just call him Kay."

"Aw," she said, bouncing him up and down. "What a sweetling!"

"Thank you," said Thaddeus. "I have-I mean, I had two others."

"Oh, no," Kel said, eyes filling with tears. "You don't mean…"

Thaddeus nodded. "That baby was mine," he said, pointing.

Kel's stomach lurched. There was a baby lying on the ground, an arrow in its back. "I'm so sorry."

He nodded. "Arel."

"Sorry?"

"His name. Arel."

"Oh."

"My girl, Tiana, is six. She's over there."

He pointed to a little girl with long brown hair and a red dress. "Tiana!" he called, motioning. "Come here."

She walked over. "I can't find my doll. I looked and looked, Pa, and I can't find her."

Kel remembered the little rag doll that she had tucked into her belt. "Is this yours?"

"Yes," said the girl, turning to look at her.

"Here," Kel offered, holding the toy out to her.

She took it and buried her face in her father's coat.

Kel shivered, then said, "Come with me. There's food, and blankets."

Thaddeus picked up Tiana and followed her towards the tents, where the men had been busy setting up a large fire and tents, and Lord Raoul was discussing the matter with the headman. She handed Thaddeus and his children over to Qasim, and went over to stand by Domitan. "What's going on?" she asked, softly.

He jumped. "Oh, Kel. Um, they think they know who it was."

"Well, of course they do," she said, "Someone had to have seen them."

"Yes," he said, sighing, "But it's a small town, and a raider could be a relative. You tell, and your family name suffers, as do you and your descendants."

Kel nodded.

"It was Gavan," said a voice behind them. They turned. Thaddeus stood there, a mask of hate and grief spread thickly over his handsome features. "It was Gavan."


	13. Bandits

**Thanks to Aria657 and SilverGoldsun-Night. And. Day. for your reviews!**

_She handed Thaddeus and his children over to Qasim, and went over to stand by Domitan. "What's going on?" she asked, softly._

_He jumped. "Oh, Kel. Um, they think they know who it was."_

"_Well, of course they do," she said, "Someone had to have seen them."_

"_Yes," he said, sighing, "But it's a small town, and a raider could be a relative. You tell, and your family name suffers, as do you and your descendants."_

_Kel nodded. _

"_It was Gavan," said a voice behind them. They turned. Thaddeus stood there, a mask of hate and grief spread thickly over his handsome features. "It was Gavan." _

"Gavan?" Kel asked, bewildered, "Who's that?"

"Yes," Dom echoed. "Who is Gavan? And how do you know that he did it?"

Thaddeus grimaced. "He…he was my wife's brother."

"How do you know it was him?" Kel asked, "I mean, in all the confusion…"

"It was him," Thaddeus said, stubbornly. "I know it."

Domitan nodded. "We better go to My Lord."

Kel ran a hand through her hair. "Should we bother him? I mean, he looks busy."

"He is," said Dom, lowering his voice, "But this is important."

He pushed her gently towards Raoul, and she looked back at him, mouthing, _"Why me?"_

He mouthed back, _"You're new."_

She glared at him, then glanced at Raoul.

"Sir?" she squeaked, nervously.

He did not hear her.

"Sir?" she said, again.

He glanced at her. "Yes, Soldier Keladry?" he asked, tiredly.

"We have a witness, sir."

"Sorry?"

"A witness, sir."

Raoul grinned. He turned to the headman, and said, "Well, things are looking up. Who is it, Soldier Keladry?"

"Um, Thaddeus, sir. A carpenter, I think."

The headman sighed. "It's no good."

"What?" Kel asked, startled.

"It's no good. I'll bet he's saying it was Gavan, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, they've hated each other since boyhood, they're often at sword's points. Gavan was supposed to be on gate duty last night, so I assume that Thaddeus blames him for Marisel's death."

Kel frowned at him. "Who?"

"His wife."

Raoul shrugged. "There may be something to it. We'd better question him. Do you have a place?"

The headman sighed resignedly. "It doesn't matter where, really."

"Well, then," said Raoul, "What say we do it in my tent? Kel, please go get this Thaddeus person."

"Yes, sir," Kel said, and walked over to Dom and Thaddeus.

"Well?" Dom asked, smiling.

"Well, My Lord wants to see Thaddeus in his tent."

o-O-o

Kel gripped her glaive tightly, struggling to slip on her Yamani mask. "What are they _doing_? They've been in there for hours!"

Lerant shrugged. "They've got to know this guy is right. They can't run around after this guy, only to find out he's dead or something.""Lerant!" she said, whipping around.

"What?" he asked, "It's true. And be careful with that thing! You almost took my nose off!"

"Yeah," Faleron said, "But there are different ways of saying that."

"What're you lot doing sitting around?" asked a blond man wearing a sergeant's band. "We need more for the burial crew."

Lerant sighed. "Yes, Sergeant Osbern."

"Good," Osbern said, and walked off.

Kel paled. "Burial crew? Um, sir," she called after him. "Sir!"

He did not answer.

She turned to Faleron, thinking he would be more sympathetic and said, "I…I don't like dead."

"Well, nobody _likes_ dead, but it's part of the job," said Lerant, bracingly. "Besides, orders are orders."

Kel shrugged. "I just don't think…"

Lerant grinned. "In the Own, you don't think!" he said, grinning. "You do!"

Faleron slugged him in the arm.

"Ow!" he yelped. "What was that for!""Don't try being funny," Faleron said, smiling. "You're no good at it."

Lerant sniffed and turned away. Kel giggled.

Faleron shook his head, and said, "Really, Kel, it's not so bad. It's…frightening…but you adjust. You'll do fine. If you have any problems, just say so, and I'll get you out of there. I promise."

She smiled gratefully at him.

"Well, if you two are _quite_ finished," said Lerant, "We'd better go get shovels. Better leave that glaive thing here," he added, "Don't want it stolen."

"I'll keep it with me," Kel said, "What if Wolset or someone gets any ideas about knocking off the Lady of the Own?"

o-O-o

Kel clapped a hand over her mouth and, grabbing her glaive, ran towards the forest. Once there, she retched, and began to vomit up her breakfast. She closed her eyes and felt tears streaming down her cheeks, and she breathed quickly, frantically. _Stone,_ she said in her mind, _Stone. I am a calm, cool lake._ But her body wouldn't listen.

She leaned over again, retching. She felt cool hands on the back of her neck, pulling her hair away from her face. She finished vomiting and turned around.

Faleron stood there. He let go of her hair, and offered his canteen. She took a sip and swirled the water around in her mouth, trying to get rid of the taste.

Kel looked up at him. She took a deep, shuddering breath and said, "I'm sorry."

"What?" he asked, bemusedly. "What for?"

She sat down hard. "I-I mean, for running off, and crying, and…"

He knelt next to her. She put her head in her knees, and he rubbed her back roughly and awkwardly, trying to calm her.

"S'okay," he said, after a pause.

"Whu-what?" she asked.

"It's okay. I'm not mad or anything."

"Oh. Thanks."

He nodded and pulled a green handkerchief out of his belt. It was slightly grimy, but he offered it to her and she accepted, gladly.

She wiped her cheeks, and he said something quietly.

"What?"

"I never saw you cry before."

"Oh."

There was a very pregnant pause. Then she said, "I tried not to, during my first year."

"I know."

"I really tried. It was just hard, I mean. With the…the faces. And the children."

"I know."

"Well," someone said, in a cold, cruel voice. "Isn't this sweet?"

They looked up, Faleron's hand darting to his sword, Kel reaching for her glaive.

A tall, handsome man stood there, dressed in mud-splashed breeches and a green tunic. He had blonde hair and green eyes.

"Hey, Marcorm!" he called. "Look what we have here! Hostages!"

A shorter, darker man in a blue tunic stumbled through the underbrush. "Huh?"

Kel stood, gripping her glaive tightly. Faleron was up a moment later, sword drawn, the steel glowing in the murky darkness of the forest.

The man in green laughed and drew his own sword. It was a finely crafted piece of metal-it had the blue ripple of Yamani steel, and the handle was inlaid with gems. However, it was not easy in his hand. _Probably stolen,_ Kel thought. Faleron lunged at the man. The man blocked his strike-but just barely. Faleron had been the best at fencing during her half-year of page training. He could hold his own. Kel turned to the other man, Marcorm. He had shakily drawn a long dagger, and she whipped up the blade of her glaive, grazing his cheek. He cried out and dropped the weapon, and she clocked him over the head with the iron-shod butt of the glaive. He crumpled to the ground, knocked out. She turned to see how Faleron was doing, then shrieked as someone pressed a soaking rag to her face. She inhaled a sickly sweet smell, then blacked out.


	14. Escape

**Thanks for the reviews.**

Kel blinked groggily. She tried to move, but couldn't. She looked down. Her hands and feet were bound. Next to her, someone stirred.

"Hello?" she said, "Who's there?"

"S'me." Someone said.

"Who?"

"Faleron."

"What happened?"

"A centaur knocked you out with something. I got hit with the sword, in the head."

"Where are we?"

"The forest."

"It's dark, isn't it? Almost midnight."

"Yes."

Kel shivered. Then she remembered something, and her throat constricted with fear. "Faleron?" she asked, "Did they…do you know what happened…what did they do with my glaive?"

"I don't know," he said. "I'm sorry."

o-O-o

"What do you _mean_, you don't know what happened to them?" Raoul roared, slamming his fist into a tree.

Osbern paled. "I don't know, sir. I had them on burial detail. Lerant said they ran off into the woods and they haven't been seen or heard from since!"

Raoul moaned and put his face in his hands.

Flyndan sighed. "My Lord?" he said.

Raoul nodded.

"As I see it," said Flyndan, "There are three possibilities. One, Faleron and the girl have run off together. Two, they are lost. Three…"

"They've been taken prisoner," Osbern finished.

Raoul straightened up. "Osbern, get a squad ready to go search for them. Torches. Heavily armed. I want Sergeant Domitan to lead them."

"Yes, sir."

"Hurry!"

o-O-o

A huge, stocky man with stringy brown hair paced in front of them, occasionally poking at them with a long stick. He cackled when they squirmed. "Two fish caught neatly in a net, eh?"

He growled when neither of them said anything. "Answer!"

Kel bit her lips to keep from retorting. Faleron didn't say anything. The man growled. "Aargh…" he spat. "Worthless. Don't know why Gavan bothered catchin' you. Just one more thing t' worry about."

Kel stiffened. Would they be killed?

The man noticed her discomfiture and laughed. He stayed with them for several more minutes, then went to go get something to eat. He came back, though, with a hunk of roasted meat. He ate noisily, spraying them with spittle. "My name's Ritur," he said. "I'm a guard."

Kel rolled her eyes. Obviously.

"I was an apprentice to a wheelwright, you know. Banditing is a lot more fun than wood. My da was a hunter. Guess some of that came through in me," Ritur bragged. "I never miss a shot. Animal or human."

Faleron stiffened beside her. Kel felt bile rise in her throat.

Ritur sat down across from them. He pulled a badly dented flask from his belt. "This was my da's," he said. "Now it's mine." He took a swig from the flask and fingered his dagger. "I throw good, too," he said. "I throw…good. Real good."

Kel guessed he was drunk.

He stayed, talking for an hour, then stumbled off towards the main camp. Kel looked at the rope on her wrists. It was old, brown, and dry.

Faleron turned his head slightly, as well as he could. "Kel," he whispered. "Kel, I have a plan."

"What?" she mumbled. "What is it?"

"When that guard comes back, I'll make him angry. Insult him. Get him to let me loose and fight me. When I beat him, I'll untie you and we can run."

"How do you know you'll win?"

"He's drunk," Faleron said. "Besides, it's our best plan."

"How do you know he's drunk?"

"Personal experience. Besides-"

A drop of warm liquid splashed onto Kel's forehead and ran into her open mouth. It was salty and bitter, and in the dim light from the torch she could see that it was a bright red.

"You're bleeding!"

"Yes. I told you, I got hit in the head."

"You can't fight him like that. You'll kill yourself!"

"It's the only chance we've got! He won't fight you, and I wouldn't let you fight him. Besides, what're we going to do otherwise. Just stay here?"

"The Own will come for us. I know it."

"Still, we have to at least try to escape."

Kel shrugged. "If you want to, I can't stop you-"

"Sh!"

Ritur came stumbling up the hill, the open flask in his hand. "Still here, little birdies? You can't swim away, can you?"

He paused.

"Ha! Swimming birds. I meant…meant…flyin' birds. Birds fly an' fish swim. Ha ha ha…ha ha…" A stream of drool dribbled down his chin and landed on his rough brown shirt. He wiped clumsily at his mouth, saying, "You…you a noble? You look noble, pretty boy."

"I am-" Faleron started to say, but Ritur interrupted again. "Yeah, you sissy noble boy…ain't so pretty now with blood all over you, are you. Is he?" he asked Kel. She didn't answer, and he waved at her, staggering. "Ah, don't know how t'talk, do ya? Can't talk…don't talk…"

"You big, fat, drunken oaf!" Faleron said, suddenly.

Ritur looked at him bemusedly. "Wha-?"

"You slobbering, dirty, smelly flea!"

"N-now you lissen here," Ritur slurred, "You're in my camp, an' while you're here, you do like I says. An' no more talkin'."

"You're an idiot. A simpleton! A dumb, stone headed, ox!"

"Shurrup, ya…ya…"

"What an imbecile!"

"Whassat?"

"A moron."

"Ah," Ritur moaned, "Ya can't fight me like a man, tha's why ya insultin' me."

"You aren't a man!" Faleron said, spitting at him. "You couldn't fight a babe!"

"Yeah?" Ritur's already bleary eyes narrowed. "Ya…you…you fight me then. Figh' me. C'mon…fight me."

"Tied up like this?"

"No…no…I'll cut ya loose. Fight you…win…" he bent over Faleron and fumbled with a blade. For a moment Kel thought he would stab Faleron, but then he stepped back.

Faleron stood up, holding his head and reaching for his sword.

"Oh, no," Ritur said, "We're goin' t'fight like commoners. Han' to han'. Man to man…no swords…no…no weapons."

Kel's heart lurched. Faleron most certainly couldn't fight hand to hand, not with that wound.

But he readied himself, as did Ritur. Then Ritur lunged, swinging wildly and missed Faleron by a mile. He stumbled into a tree, but turned around again and said, "Gotcha, din' I…ya…ya slimy…come at me…just try…"

Faleron lunged for him, grabbed him around the neck and squeezed hard. Ritur gasped for air. "Y're strong…" He backed into a tree and Faleron yelped. He slammed into the tree again and again, before finally dropping to his knees, his face bluish, and passing out.

Faleron collapsed onto the ground next to him, clutching his head and side.

"Fal!" Kel whispered, hoping he wasn't dead. "Faleron!"

He lifted a hand.

She sighed with relief. He was alive. Now they just needed to get back to the Own.


	15. Do you know?

**Thank you, SilverGoldsun - .Day., Spazzysassyangel, TheWackedOne, Brandi Heir, Aria657, and PolarBride for reviewing!**

Kel got to her knees, struggling against her rope bindings. She started to inch towards Faleron, but fell and rolled down the hill, coming to rest five paces from where he lay.

She sat up, trying to catch her breath. "Faleron?" she called, quietly.

"Hm?"

"I can't get free. I'm going to try to come near you so I can cut my ropes on your sword, alright?"

"Hmf."

"Alright."

Kel pushed herself up onto her knees and began half-jumping, half-crawling to Faleron.

She stopped a half pace away from him, and slumped to the ground, exhausted.

Faleron turned his head and looked back at her, then sat up himself. He tiredly drew out his dagger and sliced her bindings, first at her hands, then at her feet, and then at her back.

He sheathed the sword and said weakly, "We better go."

Kel nodded, and, shaking her hands to get the blood moving, stood up. She took his dagger and started cutting long strips from her tunic.

"Kel! What are you doing?"

"Binding your head."

"No," he protested, "I'm fine."

"No you aren't, Faleron of King's Reach. You've been bleeding for over two hours, if I _don't _put a bandage on it, Raoul'l have my hide."

She started to wrap the pieces of cloth tightly around his head, inwardly thanking Mithros that his hair was so thick, as it had matted and prevented him from losing too much blood.

"Hey, Fal," she asked, noting his white face, "Can you walk?"

"I-I think so. I may need a w-walking stick, I think that ox broke my arm. The left one."

Kel grimaced.

"Here. Lean on me until we can find you a stick. You may as well use the rest of this tunic, as it sure isn't going to do me any good.""Kel, you shouldn't-"

"Faleron, I have an undershirt on."

"I…"

"Fal! You're injured, I'm not. You have a broken arm, I don't. Take the tunic. It's fine!"

He hesitated. "I just…it'll look…"

"No, it won't 'look'. How could it, with your broken arm?"

"I suppose…"

"You suppose right. Here. Let me wrap that…like that…and if you tie it like this…there."

She stepped back and surveyed her handiwork with satisfaction. "See," she said, trying to keep him from thinking about his arm, "All those years at the Convent paid off! I could never have done it so neatly without years of training behind me. Now all we need to do is escape without being noticed."

He gave a short laugh, and encouraged, she said, "Now don't you feel better? Aren't you going to compliment me on the perfect bow that I tied your bandage with?"

He nodded and croaked, "Lovely."

She grinned. "Shall we get going?"

They walked quietly into the forest, freezing at any sounds and slipping their feet under the leaves. They walked slowly, because of Faleron's arm, which ached when jostled, but at daybreak, Kel thought they had made good progress.

"Faleron?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know the way back to the camp?"

o-O-o

Dom sat by the fire, rubbing his hands together. Lerant sat beside him, staring moodily at the flames.

"You know, the more I think about it, the more likely it seems that they were captured."

"Hm? What's that, Eldorne?"

"Well, you know. I mean, Faleron escorted her to the ball, but they're definitely not _together_. And Faleron's almost a better tracker than My Lord Raoul, he isn't going to get lost. So…"

Dom shrugged. "I guess."

Lerant sighed. "Did you know Faleron?"

"Of course."

"No, I mean really know him. Look, what was his favorite color?"

"I don't know."

"Green. Does he have any siblings?"

"A brother?"

"No, an older sister."

"Alright!" Dom exclaimed, "I didn't know him very well. Alright?"

"Did you know Kel?"

"Well, no," Dom admitted, "But my cousin wrote me a lot about her when she was in page training."

"Still. None of us know her very well, except for Fal."

"So?"

"I don't know."


	16. Tension

**Thanks to Brandi Heir, Spazzysassyangel, Aria657, and TheWackedOne for your reviews. **

**Chapters may be slow in coming, as we're in the middle of a move, but I'll do what I can. Meanwhile, REVIEW!**

Kel shivered. "Hope we find Owlshollow soon."

"Yeah," Faleron agreed, "I'm bone tired."

They plodded on, only breaking the crisp silence with the occasional grunt or comment on the temperature.

Finally, Faleron said, "I think Owlshollow is north."

"Huh?"

"North."

"Have we been going that way?"

"Eh," he said. He licked his finger and held it up. "Northeast, more like. What we have to do is find a main road."

"But what if Raoul sent a squad to find us?" Kel asked, "They wouldn't be on any main roads, they'd be in the forest. And besides, what with the trees so thick I don't think there are any main roads near here."

Faleron shrugged. They walked on for a while before Faleron said, "Did Wyldon really kick you out because you're scared of heights?"

"What?" Kel asked, startled.

"I mean, you're scared of heights. I know that. But is that why Lord Wyldon made you leave?"

"I don't know," Kel said heavily, "He didn't say. Just told me to pack my bags and get out. I always assumed so, but…"

Faleron sighed. "We were all really angry at him. I mean, Neal was ready to go and strangle him. It was just strange, you know, your being gone."

Kel shrugged. "I guess."

"Peachblossom got taken, you know."

"What?"

"By Sir Jerel. He took him."

"Oh. Is he…a good man?"

"He's a right sort," Faleron supplied, "Garvey's knight-master. Doesn't beat a horse, wouldn't hurt a fly, really, if it weren't for his job."

Kel laughed. "That's good."

Faleron nodded.

"Thanks," Kel said.

"What?"

"Thanks…for telling me about Peachblossom. I wondered, in the Convent, what had happened to him."

"Oh."

"I met your sister there," Kel offered, "She's nice."

"What, Anise?"

"Yeah."

"She's alright. I mean, she's got a lot of friends that giggle and gossip and flirt…just like all the girls at the Convent."

He paused a moment, then winced. "Oh, gods, Kel, I'm sorry. Honest, I didn't mean it-"

Kel grinned. "Don't worry, I know how they can be."

"Did you have any friends there?"

"A few," she said, "I was friends with Margarry of Cavall. I know that sounds odd, but she's nice, really."

"Huh," he said, skeptically, "She must not take after her father."

"She doesn't."

"Well, I'm glad you had some friends," he said honestly. "I always thought it must be horrible there."

"It was," she said, quietly. "It was dreadful."

"But, some girls like it, right?"

"Oh, yes," Kel admitted, "But I was against it from the start, and the Daughters didn't like me, so…"

"I'm sorry."

o-O-o

"Where are they?" Lerant said, raking his fingers through his hair. "I mean, what if they're trapped, or dead, or lost, or…"

"Aw, Lerant, Faleron isn't that dumb," Dom said irritably. "He wouldn't get killed."

"I thought you hated King's Reach, anyway," Wolset jibed. "I mean, because he took your place."

"Shut up," Lerant snapped.

"Personally, I hope the Girl is lost," Wolset continued, "Then when we rescue her, she'll realize that she's not fit to be in the Own, and she'll-"

His remark was lost as Lerant punched him in the mouth.

"What was that?" Wolset yelled, clutching his jaw. "What did I do to you?"

"That couldn't have hurt too badly," one of Wolset's friends commented, "After all, a weakling like Eldorne isn't a problem. Look at him!"

"Yeah," added another. "You want to fight us now? I mean, come on. You can't hold your own against a child, and there are three of us."

"Lerant," Dom said, soothingly. "Just calm down, and-"

"Yeah?" Lerant said, face flushing, "Alright then. I can wait."

"For what?"

"For you to grow up, little boy."

"Why, you-"

Dom glared at Wolset. "Be quiet, Wolset," he snapped. "Lerant, back off. And as for _you_," he said, rounding on the others, "Do you really want latrine duty for the next ten years? Because I'll be glad to give it to you."

"Yes, sir."

"Good," he said, and stormed on ahead, leaving Lerant to nurse his sore feelings and Wolset to nurse his sore jaw.


	17. Found

**Thanks for the very prompt reviews, TheWackedOne, Aria657, Brandi Heir, Fallingup39, Emaan, and Alykat23! Sorry for the not-so-prompt update…Just, we move TOMORROW, and it's been crazy and…enough excuses! Read the fic!**

**Also- I know the style is different, I just thought it would suit the mood. It'll be back to normal in the next one.**

Kel sank to the ground, tired and disappointed. After a day and a half of walking, she still didn't recognize anything.

Faleron sat down next to her. His skin was grayish and beaded with sweat, his cheeks were flushed, and his hands trembled.

"Fal? Are you okay?"

He grinned weakly. "I'm fine."

Then he passed out.

Kel felt his forehead. It was burning hot, but he shivered uncontrollably.

o-O-o

Lerant pulled his blanket up around his shoulders. There had been no hint of Kel and Faleron's presence, or the bandits'.

He felt like they were close, though. Very close. He glanced around at the rest of the men, all of whom were asleep. He hated them, then, very suddenly he hated them all. Sitting there so complacently, just…just _sleeping_ while Kel and Faleron froze and starved.

He stood up.

Grabbing a canteen full of water and a blanket, he headed off into the woods.

He would find them.

o-O-o

Faleron tossed and turned, making the leaves crackle loudly.

Kel ripped a piece of his shirt, soaked it in some of their precious water and laid it on his forehead.

It was going to be a long night.

o-O-o

Lerant trudged on, a multitude of thoughts running crazily through his head. _You'll never find them. You should turn back before you get lost. What in Mithros's name is that snapping noise?_

He hurried through the trees toward the sounds. He bent back a particularly long, thin branch and peered at the scene ahead of him. Kel was there, leaning over Faleron, who looked ill…in surprise, he let go of the branch. It swung back and smacked him in the face, hard. He fell forward.

Kel screamed.

o-O-o

"Aah!" Kel's shriek pierced the stillness of the night like a knife through butter.

She backed up quickly, hand darting toward her glaive. "S-stay back!"

"Kel, it's me."

"Who are you?" she asked, wildly.

"Me, Lerant!"

"Oh. Oh, thank the gods," she said, sinking to the ground.

o-O-o

A shriek awakened the men of the Own.

Dom sat up, tangled in his blankets, and swore loudly. "MITHROS'S BLEEDING-!"

"What happened?"

"Who was that?"

"What time is it?"

o-O-o

Lerant sighed in relief. He glanced at Faleron, whose skin was gray, and Kel, who was flushed with fear, worry, and stress. "Wait here," he said, and ran off towards the camp. Kel was left in his wake. "I'll just stay here, then, shall I?" she called sarcastically after him. "Thanks for stopping in!"

He laughed shortly and ran, ignoring the branches that smacked his face. "I found them!" he cried, upon reaching the camp.

The men were sitting up, half asleep and confused. Dom blinked. "What is it?"

o-O-o

Dom glared around him. Then Lerant stumbled into the camp, shouting about something. That idiot. "What is it?" He snapped, staring at Lerant's scratched and bleeding face.

And it better be good, he thought, Or I'll kill him and cook him for breakfast.

o-O-o

Kel sat dumbfounded on the ground. Lerant had just come barreling in, said who he was, and run off. Either that or she was ill, too, and hallucinating.

Maybe she was going mad.

Hot tears trickled down her cheeks, mixing with the blood from her many scratches, and she curled up in a ball, leaning against a tree. She couldn't do this much longer. Where was Lerant?

o-O-o

Lerant ran his fingers through his brown hair anxiously. "Hurry up! Faleron's sick, I found them! Hurry!"

The men sat there like idiots, just staring at him.

Finally, something inside him snapped. "WOULD YOU GET UP? I FOUND THEM! HE'S ILL! DO YOU HEAR ME, GET UP!"

Startled, the men stood and started sleepily collecting canteens and blankets. Wolset and Symric hurried after him into the thicket, and they soon came upon the tree where Kel and Faleron were.

Lerant's heart leapt into his throat. Kel was crying.

o-O-o

They picked Faleron up and carried him to camp, Wolset and Lerant.

Symric lifted Kel and brought her over. Dazedly, she was aware that someone was cleaning the cuts on her face and washing away the tear-tracks. A blanket was wrapped around her, and she soon drifted off to sleep.

**Sorry it's short! Five reviews to update, hmm?**


	18. Rude Awakening

**Ooooooooooooookay, O Lovely and Gracious Reviewers, first, I'll get down on bended knee to thank you all for your amazing, prompt, and happily received reviews! **

**Next, I'm just telling you, IT IS ME! I changed my name, but don't worry! I have not been taken over by evil aliens, or anything.**

**Now, I have to apologize. I got all the reviews, and then my computer went on the fritz. But I'm back, now! Yay!**

**So, for the first time in a while, I'M RESPONDING TO REVIEWS!**

**You may all cheer.**

**I'll wait.**

**Okay!**

**Brandi Heir: Thank you! I did also, it just seemed sort of Kel-ish.**

**TheWackedOne: Too right they do, and if Lerant wasn't so noisy about his rescue missions, he wouldn't HAVE to worry about being eaten! **

**FallingUp39: *Blushes* Bows* Faints* Yeah, I thought Lerant would be a bit more sympathetic towards her because he knows how it feels to be discriminated against.**

**PolarBride: I liked this also, but I think it's too confusing for more chapters. Sorry to disappoint, but Kel/Lerant weirds me out…**

**Aria657: Poor Kel, indeed! Don't hate me, but she's in for a pretty miserable couple of chapters.**

**Alykat23: You made SIX. Kk, updating!**

**Hmmmmm… anything else? Oh, yeah. I OWN ALL OF THESE CHARACTERS. Except for Wolset. No character of **_**mine**_** would be so badly behaved.**

**Wow. Really long AN. Sorry!**

Kel blinked. The world swam for a minute, then came sharply into focus. She moaned, putting a hand to her aching head.

"You're up!" someone shouted, and Kel moaned louder as her temples throbbed.

"Sorry," he whispered. Kel looked up at him.

Lerant was staring down at her, his eyes full of concern. "Sorry," he said again, and sighed.

"What's wrong?" Kel croaked, noting the look of worry on his open face.

"Nothing," he lied hastily.

Kel raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, right."

His shoulders slumped. "Fine. It's…well, don't panic, Kel, but Faleron's…he's not doing so well."

Kel sat bolt upright, then regretted it when her head pounded wildly. "What?"

"He's just not doing well, at all."

She moaned. "It's all my fault. If I hadn't run into the woods…and gotten captured…and taken care of him better…"

Lerant frowned. "It's not your fault, Kel, don't think like that."

Kel didn't answer. She rolled over and pressed her face into the pillow.

After a moment, Lerant sighed and went to tell the Healer that she was awake.

o-O-o

The Healer tended carefully to the Lady Squire, watching over her and making sure she wasn't disturbed. Raoul had talked to her, as had Dom, and Lerant had tried repeatedly, but nothing could shake the deep-seated feeling of guilt and fear that gnawed at her.

Faleron had taken a turn for the worse, and the Healers were worried about what Kel would do if he didn't make it.

Kel stared out the window blankly. Rain was pelting down.

She turned away and pulled the covers up over her head. Suddenly, she felt a sickening jolt in her stomach, as she was lifted up, blankets and all. "Wha-?"

She turned to see Raoul carrying her. "Raoul," she said, tiredly, "What are you doing?"

He didn't answer her, just carried her outside into the pouring rain. Then he dropped her on the muddy ground, the blankets falling into a wet heap beside her.

"Mithros's spear, Ra-My Lo-Sir!" Kel shrieked, gathering the blankets around herself, "What in the Divine Realms?"

"Kel, you smell bad," he said bluntly. "It's not your fault, and you're behaving like a child. Stay out here until you can get yourself together."

Then he turned on his heel and walked back in to the building, locking the door behind him.

"What?" Kel shouted, hoarsely. "Open the door! Raoul! Open the blasted door, now! When I get my glaive-"

"Oh, I see Milady's up?" Came a laughing voice from behind her.

"What of it?" Kel snarled turning. "Oh," she squeaked. "It's you."

Dom nodded, struggling to hide the barely contained grin that tugged on the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, go away," Kel snapped, and stormed off towards the main building. _When had they put up buildings? _she wondered, then pushed the thought to the back of her mind. She could wonder later.

She slammed her fist against the door, ignoring the rain that was trickling down her thin, painfully short nightshirt.

The door cracked open and Kel moaned. "Gods, why me?"

Wolset stared at her. "Um."

"Wolset, will you just let me in? I'm freezing to death here."

"No," he said, and shut the door.

Kel screamed in frustration. Faleron was going to die, and so was she. She was going to _die_ of cold, and it would be all Raoul's fault.

And Wolset's.

She banged on the door. "I SWEAR TO MITHROS, WOLSET, IF YOU DON'T LET ME IN I WILL PERSONALLY MAKE SURE YOU NEVER EAT AGAIN, YOU…YOU…" she paused for a moment, trying to think of an insult horrible enough for him.

Finally, she just screamed, "YOU PIG!" and banged harder.

By now she was thoroughly soaked and thoroughly angry. She lifted her hand to bang again, and fell inward as the door was suddenly opened.

"WOLSET!" Kel shrieked, glaring daggers at the smirking man.

"Yes?"

"I will kill you!"

"No," he protested, "Not dressed like that."

Kel ground her teeth, but stood up, wrapping her blankets firmly around herself. "Where is my room?" she asked, her voice icy.

"How should I know?" Wolset laughed, lolling against a wall.

"Fine," Kel huffed, storming down the hall, "I'll find someone else to tell me."

She walked until she slammed into someone.

"OW! MITHROS'S BLEEDING-Kel?"

Kel looked up. "Sorry, Lerant. Where's my room?"

"Uh, sort of off the hall by the door?"

"I will kill Wolset," she muttered, eyes flashing. Without a word, she wrapped the blankets more tightly around herself and stalked back down the hall.

Lerant followed her.

"Kel, you're not just going to get back in bed, are you?"

"I'm a murderess, Lerant," she said, her throat catching. "I don't want to be out."

Lerant stared at her. "Kel," he said, softly. "You're not a murderess. Gods know it's because of you he didn't die when you were both lost out there. He doesn't blame you, Kel."

She stared at the ground.

"So, go to your room, get bathed and changed, and come eat something."

Kel sighed, but turned to go. On an impulse, she darted back and hugged him tightly.

"Thanks," she whispered, and hurried off down the hall.

Lerant smiled and walked in the other direction, whistling.


	19. Selfish

**Alright, this is Chapter 19, take 2. After I was (lovingly) rebuked, I looked over my (ancient) work and realized that it was, in actuality, quite lousy. Thank you, TWO, and spazzysassyangel for your reviews. Hope this suits.**

Kel frowned. Off the hall…by the door…how many doors were there in this blasted building? She had already opened three that did _not _belong to her, humiliatingly enough.

Anger and guilt were still coursing through her veins, and she had no idea where her glaive was. She was sopping wet, cold, and still in her nightshirt and blanket, not to mention being hopelessly lost. Her eyes started to well with tears, but she shook her head determinedly and set off again down the hall. She was Keladry of Mindelan.

"I am stone," she said aloud, trying it out again. "I am stone. My spirit is a calm, cool lake."

She laughed wryly. I certainly _feel_ like a lake, she thought.

There was a loud cough behind her. Kel turned, cheeks flushing in anticipation of the awkward encounter that was sure to come, and saw the Bazhir man…Qasim, maybe?

"Lady Keladry, forgive me, but you're standing outside my door."

Kel nodded, cheeks flaming, and said, "I'm sorry. I'm slightly lost."

The Bazhir nodded. "Your room is across the hall."

Kel turned even redder and nodded, trying to look dignified in a wet and muddy blanket. Without a word, she headed to the door that he had indicated and turned the handle. It was, of course, locked.

Just as she was about to give up and despair the futility of life and wooden buildings built by stupid men, she noticed the key dangling from a leather cord.

Kel bit her lip and inserted the key, letting herself in to the miniscule, albeit clean, room that was hers. Her trunk was on the bed, a small note was on the trunk.

Dropping the blanket, she picked it up and read it.

_Kel_

_Get dressed and unpacked and find Lerant. The two of you come to my office, fast._

_Raoul_

Grinding her teeth in frustration, Kel dropped the note and opened the trunk, noting that at least everything was dry. She pulled out a uniform and tugged it on, along with her boots.

Tossing the blanket into the hall and pinning her hair up tightly, she went to find Lerant.

"Lerant! Where are you, Lerant? Gods above, Mithros himself would be easier to find," Kel mumbled irately as she strode through the halls. The building was, at least, warm, but it seemed strangely empty. The men were not practicing, she was certain of that, for the downpour had not let up at all. Maybe they were eating?

Kel grabbed a passing man by the arm. "Where is Lerant of Eldorne?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Excuse me, Mindelan?"

Kel cursed silently. "I'm sorry, sir. My Lord wanted Lerant and me to meet him about something, and I can't seem to find him."

Flyndan nodded curtly. "Well, as it happens, Mindelan, I'm headed to the same meeting. Perhaps Lerant is already there."

Nodding, Kel fell into step with the commander, mumbling Yamani curses.

The walk was a short and awkward one, and when they arrived in Raoul's quarters it became evident that Lerant was _not_ there. Domitan was, however, and he eyed Kel uncertainly, although he obviously was too well-mannered to question her presence in front of her.

Or perhaps not.

"Why are you here?"

Kel frowned. "Well…I could leave, but My Lord requested that I come."

"Oh, Mithros, Kel, that's not what I meant. I just thought you wouldn't be told about…this."

"What is 'this'?"

Dom was spared answering, however, by the abrupt entrance of Lerant and Raoul.

"Kel, good, you're here."

Kel nodded. "Yes, sir."

Raoul sat down and cracked his knuckles loudly. "Flyndan, Sergeant, I don't suppose either of you have briefed her on this?"

They shook their heads.

"I thought not. Keladry, bear in mind that you would not be here unless it was not about Faleron. Considering your role in all this, you deserve to be here."

Kel nodded.

"What Faleron has is called the 'Sweating Sickness'. There are two drained Healers in the infirmary, and he's not getting any better. I recognize the symptoms, as do the Healers, and so far as we know, there are only three people powerful enough to stop this, and only one with the knowledge or ability to trace it."

"The Lioness, Uncle Baird, and Numair Salmalin." Dom supplied, "But who's the other healer?"

Raoul nodded. "Your cousin. But, Dom…your job is to keep the men calm. You're good with them, I know it, and if you can handle this it'll mean a promotion for you.

Flyn, I need you to take care of things while I ride to Corus. The King needs to be alerted."

The two men nodded, and Lerant and Kel exchanged an awkward glance. What were they doing here?

"Keladry and Lerant…this is probably both unwise and unfair. I need you two to ride for the Lioness. I believe Nealan of Queenscove is her squire, and that just intensifies the need for you two to go. Can I count on you for this?"

Lerant nodded, then glanced at Kel, who was trying not to reach over and claw Raoul's eyes out.

She had just gotten over an illness, found out that her closest friend here was probably going to die, and been kidnapped by bandits. Not to mention the two and a half hour trek through the camp, trying to find her room. And he wanted her to go and find the Lioness? Not to mention, she had only been with the Own for about four months. Why was he assigning this to her? Lerant was in a similar position, but he would do anything for Raoul.

Kel sighed and nodded.

"Good," Raoul boomed. "Go and pack."

o-O-o

Kel lifted her head stubbornly, tears mingling with the rain that coursed down her cheeks and dripped off her chin. She brought her glaive up and down and around in an easy exercise, then began to move faster and faster until she had to stop for fear of fainting.

"Kel…"

She turned and saw Lerant there, hands locked behind his back. His hair and clothing were sopping wet, like hers, and he had obviously been practicing.

"Kel, I'm sorry. But we're riding for the Lioness, and she cured King Jonothan."

Kel nodded stiffly. "I know."

Lerant sighed and kicked the thin mud. "I just want you to know, Kel…you're my friend. I'll be here for you if you need me, and I know Faleron wouldn't want you to be doing this to yourself, especially now that there's no way you could possibly blame yourself for this."

Kel shrugged, and Lerant frowned.

"You know," he snapped, "You're being awfully selfish. I'm trying to empathize and all, and everyone's bending over backward to make sure you aren't miserable, but you're acting like a court lady. All you're missing is the dress. And you know, Kel, we're all worried about Faleron. He's not only your friend. And I'm sorry for saying it so plainly, but you need to stop moping and realize that life is going to keep on, whether you sulk or not. If you actually cared about Faleron, you would go and ready yourself for our _mission _right now, but you're just sulking."

He gave her one last withering glare, then stalked away. Kel felt her eyes fill with tears once more, and she ran to her r


	20. Pirate

Kel sat glumly in her saddle, holding the reins loosely in her left hand. Next to her rode Lerant, who had maintained a stony silence for the past hour and a half.

After packing lightly, they had been hustled out of the camp and told to go find Alanna the Lioness. She was supposed to be at Pirate's Swoop with Neal, but Raoul had warned them that she was impulsive, and might leave at any moment, so to 'hurry up and get there before she's in Carthak or some other ridiculous and inconvenient place.' Pirate's Swoop was a four day ride from the current barracks, which Lerant had tersely informed her that they would do in two.

It was still drizzling grayly, and the ground had turned to mud, but they kept on at an uncomfortable trot. They had passed through two fiefs in the past two hours, and Kel wondered how the horses would manage this pace for the next two days.

She sneezed loudly and adjusted her hood. At camp, Qasim had fixed the burnoose into a tight hood under her chin for her, but it had since loosened and drooped into a shapeless, wet drape on her head that did little to keep off the rain and less for her visibility.

Lerant rolled his eyes at her and reined in his own horse, Copper. (The horse was a distinctive silvery gray. Apparently Yukimi wasn't the only one with an ironic sense of humor.) He waited for her to stop, then leaned over and briskly fastened the cloak into a proper hood. Not waiting for any sort of a response, he nudged Copper and trotted off ahead of her again.

Kel sighed and thought of ways to make amends as she nudged Storm into a trot.

He had been right: she had been whiny and selfish. There was no point trying to justify it. She had been wallowing in self-pity while her friend was ill with a magical sickness. And she had been _angry_ that she was expected to go and help! A soldier did what he (or she) was asked, not what they felt like.

Maybe she _had_ gotten soft in the Convent.

She sighed again and prodded Storm to move faster.

o-O-o

That night, she sat on one side of the fire and tried to peer through the flames at Lerant. They had ridden all day till well past evening without stopping to eat or talk. They had finally stopped here, on the banks of a river(an inn would have taken too long, and soft beds might have compelled them to sleep in) for the night, and Kel had yet to apologize…or say anything, actually. All of her apologies sounded weak and feeble in her head, and she was sure they would sound just as pathetic once she said them. Lerant, for his part, had said nothing other than 'Rabbit?' and 'Here.'

They were halfway to Pirate's Swoop, which surprised Kel. They had taken short cuts, going across rivers rather than around them, and through fields rather than taking the roads, but even that didn't seem as though it should account for the amount of distance they had covered.

Kel chewed the last bit of meat off the drumstick she held, and dropped the bone by her feet. She looked up at Lerant and saw his mouth open, then close, then open again as though there were something he wanted to say.

"Lerant," she started.

He shrugged.

"I'm…I'm sorry. You were right. I was being selfish. I have very little to complain about, and…I was wrong."

He looked at her for a long moment. "You're right. But I forgive you."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he said, giving her a half-smile. "I was feeling bad, too."

"Okay. I really am sorry…"

"Shut up."

She tossed the bone at him and it bounced off his forehead. He looked at her bemusedly. "Thanks. That's quite an apology. You really know how to butter someone up, you know that?"

She cringed. "Sorry."

He laughed at her. "I'm joking. But in those ballads that they sing about the great Lady of the Own, they won't be talking about your manners, that's certain."

"Shut _up_."

He sighed and hunched over. "I'm just…I like Faleron, you know? I know we argue and whatnot, but he's a good sort, and we get on well enough. I'm wound tight as a top, and I took it out on you."

"At least you didn't stay in bed for two weeks and refuse to bathe," Kel said, "right?"

Lerant laughed shortly. "That's true. I don't think My Lord would've put up with that from me, though, to be honest."

"Oh," Kel said, "are you saying he's making allowances for me because I'm a girl?"

"You said it," Lerant said, shrugging. "I can't speak for My Lord, but…"

"Eh," said Kel, smirking, "the only reason he wouldn't let you sit in bed is because you'd stink up the whole barracks."

Lerant laughed and yawned, stretching widely. "I'm exhausted. I think I'll turn in, and you ought to as well."

Kel nodded. "I think I'll stay up for a bit."

Lerant shrugged. "Up to you, but if you don't get up in the morning I'll duck you in the lake."

Kel chuckled and stared up at the spaces between the stars. She listened as Lerant unrolled his bedroll and settled in, and as he began to snore softly. She leaned back on her elbows, toasting her toes by the fire, and thought about Lerant, and Faleron, and the Lioness.

Lerant had forgiven her awfully easily. She wondered why. Maybe he was testing her, to see if she would go back to moping tomorrow. Or maybe he was just a nicer person than she was.

She yawned. She stood up slowly, stretching, and walked quietly to where her bedroll was sitting. She shook it out and laid it down on the other side of the fire, then walked to the lake and scooped out a bucketful of water. She tossed it onto the dwindling flames and waited for the logs to stop smoking. When they did, she crawled into her bedroll, kicking off her boots first, and slid easily into a dreamless sleep.

o-O-o

The next morning, Kel squinted against the early morning sun and burrowed deeper into her bedroll.

"Kel. Kel. Get up."

"Mmhhmmff."

"Get up, Kel, we need to get going."

"Nooo…"

"Kel, so help me, I will throw you in the lake. I will."

"No."

She rolled over onto her stomach and closed her eyes again. Then she shrieked as she was suddenly lifted up and carried a short distance. "Lerant, stop! Lerant, don't do it, I will kill you, LERA-"

He dropped her, and she landed with a great splash in the lake. She remained mostly dry, her bedroll taking most of the soaking, but rather a lot of water wound up in her mouth and eyes. She popped up to see Lerant roaring with laughter, rolling about on the bank. She just gaped at him, mouthing wordlessly, as he laughed at her. She collected her bedroll and slogged up the banks, slipping twice on the muddy ground, and deposited the bedroll directly on top of his head.

He yelped and tossed it away from himself, still laughing.

"I told you I would, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did," she glowered, "but I was getting up! There was no need to half drown me."

"Maybe there was no _need_, but it was quite fun."

She glared at him. "Fine, then you can put away my bedroll."

He laughed again. "There's cold rabbit for breakfast in the packs, and also some fruit."

She nodded and pulled on her boots. After devouring an apple and some grapes, she stretched and clambered up into her saddle (Lerant had apparently saddled both horses while she slept) and grinned at Lerant, who was still tying the straps of her waterlogged bedroll.

"Umph," he grunted, and secured it tightly before attaching it to the back of her saddle. He hefted himself onto Copper and said, "Shall we?"

Kel nodded. "Think we'll make it there by nightfall?"

Lerant nodded grimly. "We don't have a choice."

o-O-o

Nightfall came and they were still two hours from Pirate's Swoop, approximately. They had ridden hard, harder than either Kel or the horses were accustomed to, and to push them any harder would be cruel. Kel glanced over at Lerant. He had a vaguely manic look in his eyes, and beads of sweat were rolling down the bridge of his nose. Kel, too, was sweat-soaked and exhausted, but she said, "Shall we push on?"

He only nodded, and Kel leaned down and patted Storm's neck.

"Good girl," she muttered soothingly, "almost there. We're almost there."

Storm nickered back at her and Kel leaned forward in her saddle. They trotted on, through two small towns and through a larger, though deserted, marketplace.

They passed farms and fields, and finally, finally, Kel thought she smelled the sea.

"There it is,"Lerant said hoarsely. "Pirate's Swoop."

It was beautiful, a set of several whitewashed buildings on a bluff above the sea, a series of smaller, reddish building around them, and pale stone walls encircling the whole thing.

A large purple flag wove, a golden lioness emblazoned on it, and Kel let out a sigh of relief. The King's Champion was there. They could deliver their message and get back to Faleron soon.

They rode up to the gates and Lerant pounded heavily on them. A deep, tired sounding voice came from behind the gate,

"Who goes there?"

And Lerant replied, "Lerant of Eldorne and Keladry of Mindelan. We carry a message for the Lioness from the Lord Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak."

There was a pause, and the gate swung open. George Cooper stood there, wearing a striped silk dressing gown and holding a candle and a dagger. Kel raised her eyebrows slightly.

He smiled at them. "Come in. Ye'll be wanting to speak t' the lass?"

Lerant nodded. "Please. It's important."

The Baron of Pirate's Swoop nodded. "I c'n see as much."

Kel slid shakily off of Storm and patted her hindquarters. The Baron snapped his fingers, and a guard came jogging over to collect their horses.

"Follow me."

The Whisper Man led them into his home, and as he did so, Kel became aware of the fact that she really was going to meet Alanna the Lioness.

o-O-o

Kel sat at a long table next to Lerant on a smooth bench. Hot cups of tea had been brought by a maid in a dressing gown and slippers, as well as bread, cheese, fruit, and pastries.

Kel cracked her knuckles nervously, and Lerant twitched.

"You know that's a terrible habit, don't you?" he asked, irritably.

She nodded, her eyes on the door.

She swung her legs back and forth, straightened up and slumped down again, chewed her lip, and felt her stomach turn somersaults of giddy anticipation.

She knew she should be focusing on Faleron. Or their message. Or even sleep. But she couldn't.

The door creaked open, and Nealan of Queenscove stumbled in, rubbing his eyes blearily. He wore a pair of trousers that were pulled on backwards, a half-buttoned shirt, and only one shoe. His hair stuck up at odd angles, and there were great bags under his eyes. However, when he saw Kel and Lerant, he beamed and perked up instantly.

"I didn't know it was you," he said loudly, "is the rest of the Own with you? Where's Faleron?"

Kel sucked her teeth. She glanced at Lerant, who opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by the door swinging open.

Alanna the Lioness stood framed in the doorway, her short red hair tangled, a sword clutched in her left hand. She wore boots, breeches, and a very large sweater.

"Cold," she explained, gesturing at her sweater (which fell to her knees).

Kel nodded mutely.

"Now," said the Lioness, "what's this all about?"


End file.
